


An Unfinished Life

by LMjuniper



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Don't copy to another site, F/F, Fluff and Angst, It's really not what you think you should read it, Jealous Aspasia, Lesbian Character, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Verse, Omegaverse, Reiomegaverse, Shameless Smut, alpha!Kassandra, no knotting, not so evil Aspasia, omega!Aspasia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2019-10-28 09:29:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 97,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17784878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LMjuniper/pseuds/LMjuniper
Summary: Kassandra doesn't do love. There's no time for it, not when one is trying to chase down a cult and find their long lost family. But when she meets Aspasia everything Kassandra thought she knew gets turned upside down.**Non Traditional Omegaverse**





	1. The Goat Killer

**Author's Note:**

> This just popped into my head one day. And I had to write it down and share it.
> 
> This will explain SO much. I hope.  
> I've added months and years to help readers keep up with the time frame of things.  
> This doesn't follow canon strictly. My stories never do. I've taken stuff from the game and sort of just ran with it.
> 
> Some helpful info:
> 
> Agape is pronounced: ah-GAH-pee
> 
> Ela re= hey you!  
> Kunops= AG swearing meaning bitch
> 
> Months:  
> The attic calendar starts in July  
> Summer (Θέρος)  
> 1 Hekatombaion (Ἑκατομβαιών) July/August  
> 2 Metageitnion (Μεταγειτνιών) August/September  
> 3 Boedromion (Βοηδρομιών) September/October  
> 10 Mounichion (Μουνιχιών) April/May  
> 11 Thargelion (Θαργηλιών) May/June  
> 12 Skirophorion (Σκιροφοριών) June/July
> 
> Also, I'm dying to hear what you think of this one. Please, please, please drop me a comment and let me know.  
> Also, this is still open to be an omega verse. If you want that let me know, I wasn't sure what people like.

* * *

 

**Kephallonia, Mounichion 435 BC**

“You don't understand, Kassandra. This idea is _genius_.” Markos threw his hands out to the side in a show of excitement. He was a short man, with a round belly and the most gullible face Kassandra had ever seen.

She leaned back against the cool house wall. Markos’s idea of genius more often than not got her mixed up in some fairly precarious situations. And now the man wanted to pose as a businessman who had muscle for hire.

“Markos, what muscle do you have? There’s only fat on that body.”

Laughing he motioned with his hands towards her as if he was presenting the next Olympic champion. “Not me, _you_ Kassandra.”

“Me?” She jerked her head backwards staring at him.

“Yes, you, look at how strong you are.” Markos’s head bobbed up and down as he agreed with himself. “I saw you fight that bear the other week.”

“That was a _goat_ , Markos.” She pointed with her whole hand at him in frustration.

“And what a vicious, powerful goat it was! _And_ we even got our first job.”

She crossed her arms. “You mean _I_ have my first job. I don’t see you running head first into these jobs of yours.”

“Ah, but you do it so well.” She couldn’t really argue with that. “And this is a simple job for a lot of drachmae.” He raised his eyebrows knowing he’d said the magic word.

Drachmae. With enough of it she would be free. To do what she wanted, _go_ where she wanted. But no one on Kephallonia had drachmae to spare. And what little she earned she had to use for food. There was only so long she could survive on nothing but bread and water.

“Fine.” She finally succumbed. “What is it?”

“It’s a job so simple you could do it in your sleep.”

Ikaros, perched on the roof above them, squawked in disapproval. “See, even Ikaros knows you’re not telling the truth.”

He gasped putting his hand on his heart. “You wound me! Thaddeus and Lysandra’s nieces are visiting from Athens but with the newborn they can’t meet them at the harbour. All you need to do is make sure they get to Thaddeus and Lysandra untouched.”

Kassandra narrowed her eyes. Escorting two sisters? For drachmae. It almost sounded too easy. “How much?”

“Two hundred drachmae.”

Two hundred? That was a lot of drachmae for a simple walk from the harbour to the other side of Kephallonia.

“Think about it Kassandra, two hundred drachmae for us!”

“You mean for me?”

“Well, yes, but I need to be paid for the loan of my equipement.” Markos explained.

“What equipment?”

“Well…” Markos said slowly and scratched the back of his head. “Well, you’re going to need a better weapon than that butter knife you carry around.” He nodded towards the knife strapped to her hip. Markos had given it to her when she first started ‘helping’ him with his errands. It had served her well so far.

“What’s wrong with this one?”

“That one?” His voice went up a few notes, the way it always did when he was about to convince her about something. “What are you going to do with that one? Cut bread?” He shook his head.

“It killed a most ferocious goat the other week…”

“Kassandra, you’re eighteen now. And adult. A little old for a measly knife, don’t you think?”

Perhaps he did have a point. But how much would Markos charge for a new, improved weapon? “What do you have for me instead?”

“I thought you would _never_ ask. Come, let me show you.” Markos’ face lit up. He knew he had her hooked, and she rolled her eyes. How did he always manage to get her to go along with his schemes? She’d never understand it, but at least this was going to be easy.

**Ω**

“‘Go to the harbour’, ‘it’ll be easy, Kassandra,’” she muttered to Ikaros as she crept along the rooftop. “Kunops!”

Markos had forgotten to mention that the girls she was supposed to escort from the harbour were locked up in one of the Cyclops’ houses. It appeared Cyclops had got wind of the young girls coming and decided to grab opportunity by the hand and demand a hefty sum for him to release them to Thaddeus and Lysandra.

Movement sounded on the ground below her and she froze gripping the spear and dagger harder. Markos had sent her to sneak into houses before to retrieve coin purses when their owners were not around. But this was the Cyclops and his guards. She was no match for them.

The odd sensation from the spear ran through her. Wordless guidance urging her to keep moving. She moved again. Her bare feet moving soundlessly across the hay-covered roof. She had one more building to cross until she reached the room where the girls were.

A squawk from above caught her attention. Ikaros warning her. A slightly high-pitched squawk. She looked at him circling in the sky above her. Dipping low every here and there. One, two, three times. She counted silently. Three enemies nearby. She moved closer to the edge. Two of them patrolling around the building, one standing guard on the roof above the window. He needed to go. But how?

Darkness helped concealed her movements from the guard, but not for long. Casting her gaze around she found a small piece of mud brick, broken off from the rest of the roof. With a nicely placed toss…

She raised her arm in the air and with the flick of her hand threw the rock towards the guard. It arched through the air above him landing somewhere behind him. He spun on his heels.

“Hello?”

She ran across the last bit. The guard wouldn’t be distracted for long. Grabbing hold of the window frame she launched herself into the room to the surprised yelp of the two girls. She’d imagined herself climbing heroically through the window, much like Herakles during his twelve labours. Instead, her foot caught on the window frame and she toppled onto the wooden floor in a tangle of arms and legs. She landed with a loud thud and an unpleasant crack in her shoulder.

Markos had said she was to pick up two girls, but two young women, at least a few years older than her looked down at her where she lay. One of them a fair-skinned woman in her twenties, with a slightly triangular face framed by golden locks. Behind her stood a shorter woman, deep-brown skin, raven hair and big eyes.  

“Are you...alright?” The blonde asked, a small wrinkle forming between her brows.

Kassandra groaned. Perhaps Herakles was setting her bar a bit high for her first job. “I'm fine. Are you Agape and Chrysanthe?” She asked getting back to her feet dusting herself off.

“First, tell us who you are and why you’re here.” The blonde demanded in an accent Kassandra couldn’t quite place. Not really Athenian, but vaguely similar. She held a broom in her hands, pointed at Kassandra and the bridge of her nose, dusted with freckles, wrinkled in a suspicious frown.

“I’m Kassandra. I’m here on behalf of Thaddeus and Lysandra to rescue you.”

“Rescue us?” The blonde let her arms drop to her side, a soft chuckle slipping across her pink lips. “Well, you are certainly doing a fine job, misthios.”

“I’m not a misthios.” She glared at the smug blonde. “Either way, are you the ones I’m looking for or not?”

“And if we’re not?”

“Then I’ll leave you here to your fate.” By the gods this woman was annoying even by Athenian standard.

“Very well, I’m Chrysanthe,” the blonde motioned towards herself then turned to the dark-haired woman, “this is Agape.”

“Great, now that you’ve wasted all this time, I should get you two out of here.” Kassandra allowed herself a quick glance out the window, then tilted her head to the side listening to the guard above them. He was still pacing around. Going out the window would prove challenging. Especially with two girls dressed in the ridiculous chitons.

“Exactly _how_ are you planning on getting us out of here?” Chrysanthe’s lips pursed.

“I am _working_ on it,” Kassandra snarled, agitated by the tone in Chrysanthe’s voice.

“Oh, is _that_ what you’re doing?”

Kassandra ignored her and moved towards the door.

“It’s _locked_.”

Inhaling slowly she stopped in her tracks and turned towards Chrysanthe who stood holding the broom in her hand like she was some Spartan soldier set off for the battlefield. “I _know_ that. What I don’t know is how many guards are outside.”

“More than you can handle no doubt.”

Kassandra narrowed her eyes. This Chrysanthe was a rather unpleasant person.

“Chryssa.” Agape elbowed her sister in the ribs with a berating expression on her face.

“Is she always like this?” She looked at Agape who bit down on a smile. She was pretty with dark, thick hair and eyes that lingered on Kassandra a little longer than necessary. Chrysanthe put her hands on her hips, lips thinning at the two of them.

“Fine,” Kassandra motioned with her hands at Agape, “at least your beautiful face will make this all worth it.” It drew a blush from Agape who quickly lowered her gaze to the floor.

Chrysanthe, however, rolled her eyes. “If you’re quite done, I say we best be on our way if we don’t want to get shipped off to some whorehouse in Korinthia.”

“As you wish,” Kassandra bowed in mock obedience. As if she hadn’t been working on a way out for the past few candle drops. Glancing around the room her eyes briefly brushed past a half-broken chair, a shoddy old bed and a barrel with a lantern on it. A lantern.

“What are you doing?” Chrysanthe asked as she grabbed the lantern and headed for the window.

“Getting us out of here.”

“They’ll spot us if you bring the lantern,” Chrysanthe hissed though still followed Kassandra as she moved closer towards the window. Ignoring her Kassandra swung her arm back and forth aiming at a particularly hay heavy part of the roof. She released the lantern and watched it sail through the pitch black night. It landed with a loud shatter, a sea of oil and flame setting the roof alight.

“Fire!” The guard on the roof shouted. “Fire!” More voices carried through the night, footsteps thudding and receding outside the door.

She stayed quiet listening closely to all the surrounding sounds. The shouting, the footsteps, and for Ikaros’ shrill cry. When it finally came she bolted towards the door.

“Let’s go.” She motioned towards the door and before Chrysanthe had the time to object, she jammed the spear of Leonidas between the door and doorframe. One hard knock with her hand sent the door flying open, then before darting down the stairs she turned towards Chrysanthe and fired off a grin.

They ran ducked, dodging behind merchant carts and between houses until they were too far gone for the Cyclops’ men to find them. When they were finally out of sight and out of reach, the adrenaline pumping through her body finally hit its peak and—looking at Agape who seemed as shocked as her—they both burst into a fit of giggles.

“I can’t believe that worked.” Kassandra laughed.

“That was amazing! _You_ were amazing.” Agape gushed, eyes bright with excitement. Kassandra felt herself straighten ever so slightly. It had been a pretty clever idea.

“Do I have to remind you, you won’t get paid until we’re at Thaddeus and Lysandra’s.”

“Which one of your parents does she get that from?” Kassandra jutted her chin in Chrysanthe’s direction.

“She is no doubt right,” Agape mused, “but perhaps something to motivate you.” She smiled, almost shyly, then stood on her toes and leaned in close to press her lips against Kassandra’s. And just like that, without much ceremony, Kassandra got her first kiss.

**Ω**

There were two ways of earning drachmae on Kephallonia: working in the fields all day for next to no pay or do the things no one else wanted to do. Which was how Kassandra found herself hunting for goat’s bladders. It was a filthy, thankless job. But the blacksmith in Sami paid good drachmae for it.

Drawing her bow she inhaled slowly, then held her breath and aimed for the goat’s eye. No point in damaging the meat when she could keep some for herself and sell the rest to the merchants.

A high-pitched shriek cut through the midday air startling both Kassandra and the goat who took off with a loud bleat. The scream came again. If they kept this up, she would have no goat’s bladders to show for herself at the end of the day.

“Malaká…” she muttered and stood up from her hiding place in the bushes when another frightened scream echoed through the forest. There were no drachmae in saving strangers, but this one, whoever it was really needed help.

Setting off towards the screams she pushed herself past dense growing bushes coming to an abrupt halt at the sight before her.

A bear the size of ten strong Cyclopses—the mercenary, not the giants—stood outside the large cave in the glen dragging someone towards its den.

“Hey!’ She shouted trying to get its attention. It ignored her, the screaming and kicking prey far more interesting. “Ela re!” Sprinting she raised her bow firing an arrow at the beast.

The arrow tore through the air and with a surprisingly dull thwack buried itself in the bear’s thick hide. It spun with a roar, lips pulled back, teeth bared, its black beady eyes staring straight at her. _Shit_.

She probably should have thought things through _before_ shooting at it. On the bright side, she’d managed to take its attention off its victim, downside? Now it had a new snack in sight. One that hadn’t planned her next move.

She pulled out her spear side stepping slowly. The bear was too málakes close. By the time she got another arrow off, it would be on top of her. And she’d rather be gripping tightly on to her spear than her bow when that happened. The spear guided her not in words, but in something far less tangible. Like an emotion that pulled at her body, twisting it out of harm's way. It wasn’t always easy to know what it wanted, what it was trying to convey to her and it had taken her many years to learn how to decipher it. It came easier now, but they still had their miscommunications. Such as when the spear pulled at an emotion and Kassandra thinking she knew what it meant rushed in, head first, only to get her herself into a worse situation.

She moved before she had time to react, charging towards the bear, spear gripped tightly in her hand. She knew it was going to get up on its hind legs, the spear had shown her. But if she had listened properly, she would have known that instead of slamming its big paws into the ground, trying to topple her over, it would swipe them _at_ her. She barely managed to dodge its sharp claws. They swept past her face blade sharp. Time seemingly slowed, and she twisted her body away from the bear. Though not fast enough. Sharp claws dug into the skin on her arm, ripping three thick gashes across it.

She screamed in pain and staggered forwards dropping the spear. In the commotion Kassandra had managed to stumble inside the cave. The bear, blocking her only way out turned and charged towards her. _Shit! Shit, shit, malakás shit!_

“Up here! Quick!” A voice called from somewhere above. It could be another awful idea or it could keep her in one piece. Either way, there was not enough time to over think it.

She spun on her heels, an arm at an overhang above her waved wildly. She launched herself off the ground grabbing at the roots growing along the walls. Her fingers found purchase. She hoisted herself up on the overhang just in time to avoid the bear getting her legs as well.

“You!” the voice said and she could hear the scowl in it.

“Me,” she said evenly and looked back into a set of familiar light-brown eyes. Chrysanthe.

**Ω**

“Of _all_ the people.” Chrysanthe sighed as she sunk back down on the hard rock formation. The small wrinkle of annoyance back on her face. But then she saw Kassandra’s blood-soaked arm. “You’re hurt!”

“I’m fine,” Kassandra glowered and just to prove her right her body swayed with a dizzy spell.

“Sit down.” Chrysanthe stood up again putting an arm around her to help steady her. This time Kassandra didn’t argue, all of a sudden feeling fatigued.

“Are you alright?” Kassandra asked as Chrysanthe propped her up against the cave wall.

“Yes,” Chrysanthe’s voice was softer when she spoke, “it only got my chiton. But you’ve lost a lot of blood.” She pulled her chiton into her lap and picked up a sharp-looking rock from the cave floor. With a few hard stabs, she pricked a hole in the fine fabric of her garment. Then much to Kassandra’s surprise, she ripped at the textile until she’d gathered long shreds of fabric in her hand.

Using one of them she pressed it hard against the cuts on the arm. Kassandra sucked in air through her teeth. _Malaká that hurt!_

“Stop being a baby,” Chrysanthe berated her. Kassandra was about to retort when she saw the corner of her lips curl.

“Ha…” she said slowly. She felt lightheaded and contemplated closing her eyes. Just for a bit.

“You know,” Chrysanthe’s voice said softly, and she looked back at the woman who sat caring for her wound. Her nose wrinkled in concentration, eyes squinting in the dark. “I think you might be the most foolish misthios I’ve ever met.”

“I am _not_ a misthios.”

“Well, perhaps you should be.”

“And what would my incredible deeds be to grant me jobs? Kassandra The Goat Killer?”

Chrysanthe laughed and maybe it was the blood loss or maybe the lack of food the past week, but Kassandra thought it was one of the nicest laughters she’d ever heard.

“Kassandra The Impulsive,” Chrysanthe suggested and wrapped the last piece of fabric around the cuts across her arm.

“Kassandra of Nowhere.”

Gently as if she was made of fragile Korinthian pottery Chrysanthe put Kassandra’s hand down on the ground and looked at her. “Of Nowhere? I thought this place was called Kephallonia.”

“Like you and your sister, I was not born here. I was born and raised in Sparta. Until...fates wanted differently.” Was all she offered.

“Agape is not my sister. We are both just heading for Megaris to begin...to be married off.”

“Well,” Kassandra nodded her head once, “that would explain why she is so much—” she caught Chrysanthe glaring at her, “browner than you.”

“You were going to say prettier.”

“No.” Kassandra gave a shake of her head. “You are very beautiful.”

A coy smile worked itself on to the blonde’s soft features. “You think me pretty?”

“If I was to describe Aphrodite to anyone, I would surely describe you.”

Chrysanthe threw her head back laughing. “You might be the worst misthios I’ve ever met, but by the gods you are quite the Silver Tongue.”

“Kassandra The Silver Tongue.” She frowned, “I don’t think that sounds quite appropriate.”

Another laughter slipped across Chrysanthe’s lips and she moved over to sit next to Kassandra.

“So now what?” Chrysanthe said after a short while.

“Now we wait until it either leaves or falls asleep.”

“And then?”

“And then we run like Hermes.” She leaned her head back against the cool cave wall. Her arm was throbbing, and she grimaced. She needed something to take her mind off the pain. “What were you doing out here, anyway?”

“I was trying to find some peace and quiet to study.”

“And you thought a bear’s cave was a good idea?”

Chrysanthe glared daggers at her. “Little Phobie keeps crying all the time. Be it night or day.”

“You know what they say about crying babies. They’ll become headstrong and brave.” Saying it out loud she wondered if she’d cried a lot like a baby. Perhaps not. She didn’t feel very brave. It wasn’t bravery that had her chasing bears or rescuing girls from Cyclops. It was a necessity.

“But how can I learn things if I cannot focus?” Frustration tinged Chrysanthe’s words as her brows furrowed.

“What is so important to learn, anyway?”

Turning away from her Chrysanthe reached for something behind her then held out the scroll towards Kassandra. She stared at it blankly drawing a huff from Chrysanthe who unrolled it and held it up for Kassandra to read. It was all Roman to her.

“It’s Thales of Miletus, the first ever philosopher, how can you not—” Chrysanthe caught herself and tilted her head. “You cannot read.”

Kassandra shrugged. “I’m busy trying to survive. I don’t have time to read.”

Chrysanthe’s expression was a look of pure shock and it drew an amused laughter from Kassandra.

“Don’t worry that pretty face of yours. I will survive without this knowledge.”

“Ade!” Chrysanthe tutted. “We need to survive this if only for you to learn how to read.”

“If we survive this, I will cook you that bear,” she pointed at the bear sitting by the entrance staring at them, “for dinner and you can read to me all you want.”

**Ω**

They spent the rest of the day trapped on the overhang, talking about everything and nothing. Kassandra found out Chrysanthe loved stories, and enjoyed singing. In return, Kassandra told Chrysanthe about Sparta. What little she remembered. It was a long time ago since that fateful night on Mount Taygetos. Some details were fuzzy.

It took the bear until the moon stood high in the sky before the bear left the den. Tired of waiting for the prey hiding far above when there was other prey to be found in the forest. When they were certain it was long gone they climbed down and started the long walk back to Kausos.

“This was nice,” Chrysanthe said as they pulled to a stop by Thaddeus’s house. “But I don’t think I want to do it again.”

Uncertain as to why, Kassandra could feel her heart drop in her chest. “Well, I hope your studying turns out well.” She turned to trek the last bit back to her tent when Chrysanthe’s hand touched her arm.

“But I would very much like to see you again. When we’re not under duress from thugs or bears. On Nuomenia?”

Kassandra looked back at Chrysanthe pale against the moonlight, as fair as Hebe, goddess of everlasting youth and beauty. “I’ll see if I’m not hunting goats then.”

A smile drew on Chrysanthe’s lips. “I’ll see you then.”

**Ω**

**Kephallonia, Thragelion Nuomenia 435 BC**

“What is this place?” Kassandra looked around the remains of an old house on the small overlook. Chrysanthe had asked her to meet her there, what for she had no idea. Perhaps a cleaning session? For that was the only reason Kassandra could think of anyone wanting visit the slowly decaying ruins.

“You are going to help me set this place up for my studies.” Chrysanthe brushed past her dropping a bag full of scrolls to the ground.

“And why would I do that?” Kassandra crossed her arms and scowled at the woman. She wasn’t going to help her with anything just because they spent a day snuggled up in a bear’s cave.

“Because,” Chrysanthe turned around with a smile on her lips. A smile that could make even the hardest stone melt. “While we’re at it I’m going to teach you how to read.”

Read? She frowned. Chrysanthe would teach her? For free? Her bewilderment must have shown for Chrysanthe picked up a scroll and walked over to Kassandra, eyes full of hope.

“If you help me, I will make sure you can read by the end of the summer. Surely a misthios that can read would be able to get more jobs than those who can’t?” She handed Kassandra the scroll.

It felt heavy in her hands but it smelled nice. Like honey. Like Chrysanthe. “And all I have to do is spend time with you?”

This time Chrysanthe leaned in closer and lowered her voice as she ‘hm’-ed. “It’s not such a terrible price to pay?”

Chrysanthe was nearly two heads shorter than Kassandra and she had to tilt her head backwards as to lock her gaze with Kassandra’s. Her eyes, big and brown studied Kassandra and suddenly a flip tugged at her stomach.

“Well…” Kassandra scratched the back of her neck. “I guess if I absolutely _have_ to…”

**Ω**

They spent the next weeks cleaning out the house and restoring it with abandoned debris found on the island. Having to hunt goat’s bladders all over the island had its perks. Every scrap she could get her hands on Kassandra would bring back to the overlook.

It took her two weeks to learn the alphabet, and much longer than she cared to admit to read her first word. All the while Chrysanthe encouraged her and when Kassandra could finally read her first scroll on her own she thought she could see Chrysanthe beam.

Chrysanthe in return soon had a small house to escape to when little Phoibe cried too much or when she wanted to be left alone. Sometimes, when Lysandra needed help, Chrysanthe would bring Phoibe with her. And when the weather allowed for it—which was most days—they’d sprint down the hill towards the cliffs overlooking the water and hurl themselves off the cliffs in childish excitement. It was during one of those times Kassandra noticed the way Chrysanthe’s tunic clung to her pristine skin. How it hugged her subtle curves, clung to her deliciously round hips and ample breasts.

It started innocently. A glance here and there. Then Kassandra started noticing Chrysanthe’s laughter, how it trickled from her lips like springwater from a well. And the friendly touches, and hugs began to awaken a wildfire inside Kassandra. One she tried her very best to keep at bay. Chrysanthe was not hers. She was a young, beautiful woman from Athens. Set to marry a Megarian noble man. No matter how many touches or glances lingered a little too long on Kassandra, Chrysanthe was someone else’s to touch.     

“Would you say that if your neighbour had a nicer horse, you would want it?” Chrysanthe looked at her from the other side of the table drawing her out from her own sullen thoughts.

“I don’t have any neighbours, I live in a tent.” Kassandra shrugged drawing a frown from Chrysanthe.

“But pretend you do.” She insisted and reached out to touch Kassandra’s hand. It was a gentle touch, barely there, but there enough for it to set the spot she had touched on fire. Kassandra tried to ignore the feeling focusing on the question instead.

“I don’t have a horse, I couldn’t compare.”

“ _Kassandra_.” Chrysanthe’s brows drew together as she leaned forward trying to give Kassandra her serious stare. As she did the shoulder of her garment slid forward, revealing tanned skin and collarbones.

Kassandra quickly looked away, fixing her eyes at a tree somewhere behind Chrysanthe. “Perhaps we could continue talking tomorrow? I’ve to get up early.” She stood up quickly to make a hasty retreat back to where her tent was.

“Kassandra?” Chrysanthe turned in her chair and reached out for Kassandra barely in time to grab her wrist to halt her. “What’s going on?”

Kassandra snorted quietly, refusing to turn around to face the blonde beauty, Aphrodite walking amongst men. Her back grew warm when Chrysanthe moved closer, her fingers still wrapped around Kassandra’s wrists, her breath warm against her back.

“Have I done something to offend you?” Chrysanthe asked quietly.

Sighing Kassandra’s shoulders slumped forward. “No…”

“Then what it is? Why will you not talk to me?” Chrysanthe asked sounding wounded.

“For you, this is just studying, practicing...but for me...I just keep falling even more in love with you.”

“Love, an emotion or the complete loss of one’s mind?” Chrysanthe murmured and pulled at Kassandra’s wrist until she yielded and turned around to face her. “Have you lost your mind, Kassandra?” Chrysanthe’s hands came up to cup her face. “For I fear I’m losing mine.”

“But…” Parts of her could not fathom what Chrysanthe had just said. What did it mean?

“I am nothing more than slave bound by my parents' greed. My body is not my own.” Her fingers dug themselves into Kassandra’s hair as she pulled her closer. “And now I find my neither is my heart. ”

Kassandra leaned her forehead against Chrysanthe’s. She was to set sail to Magaris after the summer. To begin a new life. With a husband whose sons she would birth. Seal his legacy. To live a rich, comfortable life. It was what her parents had agreed with the Megaris leader. She wasn’t supposed to feel for anyone else. Let alone some good for nothing Kephallonian.

“Let’s run away, Chryssa,” Kassandra muttered, “away from here, together, just you and—” Incredibly soft lips brushed against hers, silencing her in a chaste kiss. A kiss that grew deeper as Kassandra's finger dug into Chrysanthe's soft hips pulling her closer.

“Still want to run away?” Chrysanthe panted when they broke the kiss. Kassandra shook her head ‘no’. Now, her mind wanted to entirely different things that had nothing to do with running.

 **Ω**  

“Touch me here,” Chrysanthe breathed into her mouth. ‘Here’ was a vague word when she lay naked next to Kassandra and there were so many places Kassandra wanted to touch.

Her thumb ran across the pink nipples that rose at the brief contact. They peaked against her palm and made all the blood in Kassandra's entire body pool into one and the same spot. She ground herself against Chrysanthe. Against the warm, damp spot between her thighs. The response was immediate as Chrysanthe rolled her hips eagerly.

Her hand, nimble and soft grabbed Kassandra’s then guided it towards the soft mound veiled in golden curls. There Chrysanthe pressed her two fingers against Kassandra’s then slowly dragged their fingers between her wet folds until they reached a small bundle at the top.

Kassandra felt her breathing almost come to a halt at the feel of Chrysanthe's soft flesh underneath the tips of her fingers. She repeated the movement, fingertips brushing against the warm entrance before sliding all the way back up to the hooded tip. There she moved her fingers in circular movements causing Chrysanthe’s breath to a hitch in her throat.

Chrysanthe’s hips bucked against her, quiet pleas falling from the parted mouth. Uncertain Kassandra watched her until Chrysanthe once again grabbed her hand and with one smooth movement slid Kassandra’s fingers inside. The body underneath her trembled, a gasp escaping Chrysanthe lips. The ends of her brows curled and for the briefest of heartbeats, Kassandra worried she’d hurt her. She stilled her movements, waiting for Chrysanthe to adjust to her. Then slowly Chrysanthe began to roll her hips.

Kassandra moved her hand slowly at first, moving in and out of the soft flesh marvelling at how it clenched around her fingers with each push. Rolling over to lay between Chrysanthe’s legs Kassandra used her hips to add pressure. She was watching her face knowing it was her that brought the whimpering woman underneath her such pleasure. She felt her own breath quicken at the sight of Chrysanthe coming undone beneath her when she felt a hand snake its way in between her legs.

The wildfire she’d been trying to keep at bay over the summer built inside her. Every nerve set on fire until it became unbearable, overpowering. She tried to fight it again. But when Chrysanthe whispered her name she let herself go.   

**Ω**

“I love you,” Chrysanthe whispered and kissed Kassandra’s fingers where they lay curled up underneath a thick blanket.

Chrysanthe _loved_ her. Loved Kassandra. She still couldn’t believe it, that someone like Chrysanthe could ever look at her they way she did. But there she lay in Kassandra’s arms, eyes heavy with sleep, lips slightly swollen from the kissing that had barely stopped since they started.

“You should get some sleep.” She pressed her lips against Chrysanthe’s cheek and the smaller woman curled up closer.

“We could just stay here. You and me. Live off the land, make love every sunset…” Chrysanthe murmured.

“Have babies and live happily ever after?”

“Mm…” Chrysanthe nodded slowly. She was drifting off to sleep.

Closing her eyes she pulled Chrysanthe even closer, her breath tickling Kassandra’s neck. Happily ever after? Falling asleep with Chrysanthe in her arms for the rest of her life? Yes, that was a life she would be happy with.

**Ω**

**Kephallonia, Boidromion 435 BC**

Summer was slowly beginning to drift towards early autumn. The nights grew colder, but they curled up together, arms and legs tangled, naked skin heating the other. In the house they rebuilt themselves. Restored from mere ruins. It was nothing much. Just four walls, and a small outside area.

Kassandra woke to the feathery touches of Chrysanthe’s fingertips on her face. Blinking up at Chrysanthe she thought she detected traces of tears.

“Agapi mou?” She raised herself on her elbow but before she could say anything else Chrysanthe wrapped her arms around her silencing her with a kiss.

“I love you,” Chrysanthe whispered, her thumbs caressing Kassandra’s cheeks. She would have asked what was wrong again, if Chrysanthe hadn’t pulled her top off then. Later. She would ask her later.

Later it turned out wasn’t until the sun started to set. The blacksmith wanted bear intestines and bears were difficult to hunt, so Kassandra had to spend the entire day setting traps and chasing bears. And instead of meeting Chrysanthe near Kausos Chrysanthe had told her to meet her at the house. For a surprise.

She walked up the slanted dirt road to their house, bear fur slung across her shoulder. The evening sun was setting somewhere behind their house and she squinted at the warm light.

Chrysanthe was nowhere to be found. Strange. She should be there. She stopped by the dried up well and dropped the fur to the ground as she peered around the small front yard. She missed it at first, but on her third sweep she caught sight of it. The neatly rolled up scroll leaning against the door they fitted the other week. Wiping her hands on her tunic she walked up to it and picked it up. An ice cold feeling suddenly settling in her stomach. It smelled like honey. Like Chrysanthe.

_Agapi mou,_

_I’m sorry. I knew you would never let me go without a fight and I would not be strong enough to fight you. To fight my desires to be with you. Thought I want nothing more, my life is not mine to live. And I cannot ask you to sacrifice yours to free me.  Kassandra, don’t waste your life waiting for me. Find someone who loves you better than I could. Perhaps I will see you again some day. When life might be kinder to us. Until then my every breath, my every heartbeat will be for you only._

_Chryssa_

The scroll clattered to the ground as she scrambled up the house wall. She reached the highest part of the shoddy roof just in time to see it. The ship. She could see it cleave the waves of the bottomless Aegean. She blinked at the setting sun, breathing heavily as she tried, but failed to keep her tears from falling. There, like a small pin prick on the golden ocean, was the ship with Chrysanthe. Taking her further away from Kassandra.

She dropped down, pulled her knees towards her chest and hid her face in her hands as she wept. She was alone. Again.

**Ω**

**Megaris, Skirophorion 7th Waxing, 431 BC**

How many nights had she dreamed about landing on the shores of Megaris? Of finding Chrysanthe and rescuing her from whatever miserable life she was leading. She had fantasised about getting a job as a soldier, to protect the Megarians, earn her pay. To provide for herself and Chrysanthe.

Each day and night Kassandra had returned to their house. The one they built together. Where they used to laugh and let the days trickle away into night. The house where they made love for the first time. Parts of her hoped she’d find Chrysanthe there, by some some divine intervention. By the time Kassandra stopped returning to her tent, just staying in the small house Chrysanthe’s ghost was long gone. A faded scar on a jaded heart. At least that was what she thought at the mere age of twenty. Life was a little more dramatic at that age.  Smaller things meant much more.

Walking through the small port, the early summer sun caressing her face, Kassandra laughed softly at her younger self and shook her head.

“You’re in a good mood,” Barnabas noted where he walked next to her. “Anything in particular that has the great misthios in such content state?”

“First love,” she stopped and looked at the old man she’d met a month earlier.

“First love?” he said eyes shining with excitement. Another story for him to tell. “Is the person here?”

She laughed. “No. Just remembering being young and optimistic, hopeful. Heartbroken.”

“Ah.” Barnabas sighed. “Love, such a complex emotion. Hard to find, but...” He pinched his thumb and finger together holding it up in the air squinting with the one good eye at it. “Look for it in the right places, wait patiently, give more than you recieve if you must, and the gods will reward you.”

“Is that why I see you with _so_ many lovers?” She teased and resumed her walk.

“Ha!” he barked. “The sea is the only love for me. The deadliest woman there ever was, forever my wife.”

“Well, at least you have time for it. I have no time. No need.” She shrugged as they pulled up to the Adrestia that rested by the dock. Beautiful and magnificent.

“Even better! If you had a lover in every port, surely we would _never_ reach Athens.” Barnabas threw his hands up towards the midday sun.

“We just have a few stops before then, but don’t worry, I won’t be seeing _too_ many lovers.” She winked as they stepped aboard the Adresita, the crew quickly getting to their feet.

“You know Athens have its fair share of interesting people.” Barnabas lifted his bowl of water towards his lips. “In case you're not completely done looking.”

She laughed. “Old man, how can there be time for love when adventure awaits?”

“That my friend, is _not_ the question. The question is: why make time for love when adventure awaits?” And with that he fell silent, his eyes drifting towards the the dark ocean and her bewitching waves.  

**Ω**

**Athens, Mounichion 427 BC**

The entire room drew a collective inaudible breath, and though it remained buzzing with noise all eyes were on the entrance somewhere behind Kassandra. Even Socrates fell silent, if only for a moment, his eyes lighting up. Whoever could make the insufferable philosopher shut up clearly deserved the attention they were getting.

“Aspasia…” Thrasymachos whispered as if awestruck and Kassandra turned around to look at the woman who had captivated an entire symposium.

To describe her as Aphrodite would still not do her beauty justice for her eyes were as dark and mysterious as the Aegean and her now dark skin as beautiful as the legendary plains of Arkadia.

Kassandra stared in disbelief. “Chrysanthe?”  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By. The. Gods!!!!  
> Did you see it coming? Did you  
> Please, please leave me a comment before you blaze through the next 14 chapters, I really want to know your reaction. 🙏🏾


	2. When Pasts Collide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the feedback and for all the damn love!  
> So stoked you liked this one. *happy dance*
> 
> Ok, here's a new chapter, it's smutty! Oh, and after getting equal votes someone suggested a coin flip since I couldn't decide on omegaverse or not. And coin landed on omegaverse. So this story is officially an omegaverse. If you've read my other stuff, you know the drill. Non-traditional, no knotting (yes, yes, I'm a terrible person).
> 
> Also, I've had to make Phoibe younger as Kassandra leaves Kephallonia much earlier than I made up in the first chapter. Ooops. I'm a little bit confused about Kassandra's age. The Wiki says she was born 453 and that her Odyssey starts 431. That would make her 22 according to the game, but according to the book she's on Kephallonia for twenty years...Twhich would mean, by wiki logic, Kassandra was 2 when she got flung off Mt Taygetos. LOL This also means Perikles will just have to die 2 years later than history has it. Sorry, history! 
> 
> I'm using moons, floods, and candle drops as timestamps as they didn't use hours and minutes back when. Most people used calendars depending on what sort of lives they led so I've made Kassandra follow the festival calendar as that was one of the most popular ones. 
> 
> Helpful glossary:  
> Metoikos = Foreign resident of Athens who had no citizen rights in their Greek polis of residence. They paid extra taxes, but had less rights. Eg killing a metiokos wasn't as bad as killing an Athenian resident.  
> Agapi mou = My love  
> Nepenthes = opium drug first mention by Homer when he recalls Helen of Sparta giving it to her soldiers.
> 
> Ok, that was alles! Sorry for the long note!  
> Hope you like it, please comment. It makes me happy. :)

* * *

 

 **Athens, Mounichion**   **427 BC**

Kassandra blinked her world coming to a stop. Chrysanthe, now a mature omega, with thick dark curls, soft curves, and eyes smokey with charcoal stepped down the set of stairs. She commanded the entire room, her chin held high, as she greeted her guests in the most sophisticated manner Kassandra had ever seen. Giving her guests a gentle squeeze between her hands. Hands that looked soft, and a memory of lying on their roof in the sun with the same hands caressing Kassandra’s body flitted through her mind.

The years had been good to Chrysanthe. _Aspasia_ , she corrected herself. The years had been good to Aspasia. They suited her well. They had not been so kind to Kassandra. When other women's bodies grew softer, curvier, hers shaped into hard angles and well-defined muscles. Where other women’s bodies curved with delicate flesh hers flexed with raw power.

What was it Markos had likened her with? The Kretan bull. Powerful, and unstoppable. She could see where he was coming from, but pretty or beautiful wasn’t a word she’d use to describe herself. Which was probably why she’d refused the chiton Phoibe had tried to make her wear. What would she look like in one of them? With scars all over her arms and body. Like a thug trying to fit in. She would stand out like a sore thumb so she might as well just wear her armour: the red breastplate with leather straps. It made her look imposing. It made her feel confident. Safe. It did take quite a sharp blade or arrow to penetrate it after all.

Chrysanthe moved around the room, making sure to greet everyone and then, before Kassandra had enough time to gather herself, her former lover turned around. Half-lidded, sooted eyes landing on Kassandra’s, though they showed no sign of recognition. But then Chrysanthe dipped her chin towards her chest, her lips curling upwards as she smiled. A smile that could melt the hardest stones. And suddenly Kassandra was back on that dirt road in Kausos, eighteen years young, heart racing, her mind in useless pieces on the ground. It took her more than a few candle drops to realise that Chrysanthe's gaze slid over to an alcove off to the side.

Kassandra trailed Chrysanthe with her gaze. She moved dignified yet with a subtle seductive roll of her hips. It was only when Kassandra realised Sokrates still hadn’t gone back to talking that she saw the two men observing her intently.

Thrashyamachos looking at Kassandra like she’d just been invited to a meeting with a deity and declined. Perhaps it was best if she simply went over to talk to Chrysanthe. Get it all over and done with. The way she was feeling was just the shock of seeing Chrysanthe again. Once that settled this would be just another memory. Of the time she went to a symposium and had a run-in with a former lifetime.

“Excuse me.” She gave a small nod to Thrasymachos and Sokrates who—she thought—observed her with curious eyes. Or perhaps she was just being paranoid.

Inhaling she moved towards the small alcove putting more confidence into her steps than usual. The woman standing in the alcove was merely someone she once knew. In another life. _Another one who abandoned you_ , a voice in her head whispered as she pulled to a stop below the two steps up to the alcove.

Now that she was closer, she realised why she hadn’t recognised the omega’s smell. It was different, smelling of something else. _Someone_ else. And Kassandra, despite being an alpha had never marked Chrysanthe.  

“I couldn’t help to notice your talent for debate. Well done,” the dark-haired woman said and held her hands out to the side. Eight years, and that was the first thing Chrysanthe could say? _Eight years since you left me alone on that malákes rooftop and that’s it?!_

“If by talent, you mean not strangling both of them, then yes, I impress even myself.” Kassandra shrugged forcing down the anger. She was over them. She had been for years.

Chrysanthe’s eyes glittered. “Yes, you do strike me as the kind of person who possesses a great amount of self-control.”

_Chrysanthe digs her teeth into her lip, eyes locked with Kassandra’s. She’s nervous, her hands folded across her chest. Kassandra tries to smile, tries to be confident, but she’s terrified. She’s never done this before, at least not with somebody else. Sure, there were nights she spent on her own taking care of her own needs. But this was different. This was Chrysanthe._

_“Are you...okay?” She blinks down at Chrysanthe a little uncertain still what to do._ How _to do it._

_“You’re making me nervous,” she laughs but a blush spreads across her cheeks. And just like that Kassandra’s chest grows warm, the overwhelming tingle in her chest overflowing until it darts up and down her spine, setting her entire body on fire._

_“I’m sorry, agapi mou.” She leans in for a kiss, a soft one. At least it starts soft, but then Chrysanthe’s tongue slips across Kassandra’s bottom lip, asking for permission. She loves Chrysanthe’s kisses, how soft her lips are, how her tongue slides against Kassandra’s._

_Chrysanthe’s hands come off her chest, tangle themselves in Kassandra’s hair, pulling her closer. Her scent is everywhere, all-consuming, and intoxicating. It awakens something new within Kassandra, something she’s never felt before. A need, an instinct and she grinds herself against the omega._

_She’s rewarded by a moan as Chrysanthe spreads her legs and rolls her hips against Kassandra. Slow, every movement dragging across Kassandra’s hardness. She growls the need to push inside, to possess the omega overpowering. But the omega isn’t ready and so Kassandra fights off the urge to rush her. Instead, she takes her time, lets Chrysanthe set the pace until suddenly she feels Chrysanthe’s hand grab her just like she’s done before. But instead of stroking until Kassandra can’t take anymore she drags the tip of Kassandra between her folds, warm, soft and it makes her feel like every nerve, every cell is on fire._

_“Chryssa.” She pants, no, whines. She needs more, she needs to mark, needs to dominate. But it’s not up to her. It’s Chrysanthe who decides. Chryssa decides, Chryssa...a moan slips into her mouth and she feels herself surrounded by heat, by incredibly soft flesh hugging her tightly._

_“Wait, wait…” Chrysanthe whimpers adjusting to her. Kassandra doesn’t move despite every muscle, every part of her urging her to. She stays still, trying to ignore the throbbing between her loins, the fire that pools into her belly. She closes her eyes concentrating on rambling the alphabet, naming the star constellations until she feels the omega relax around her. Her hips roll with slow shallow movements against Kassandra until she's completely sheathed in Chrysanthe's heat. She pulls out, carefully, slowly, velvety walls clamping around her and a groan slips across her lips._

_“Kassandra,” the omega whispers and she opens her eyes. A smile works its way onto Chrysanthe's soft features, her white teeth digging into the soft flesh, brown eyes giving Kassandra permission._

_She sinks back in and Chrysanthe arches into her, chin tilting upwards exposing her neck. And when Kassandra drags her teeth where her pulse beats the omega purrs. It's only then Kassandra starts thrusting, driving her hips forward into the omega who whines and whimpers with every thrust. Her nails dig into Kassandra's shoulders, scratch at her back. Kassandra's teeth nipping and sucking at the omega's neck._

_The gods' names fall from Chrysanthe's lips in breathless prayers, and then when Kassandra is deep inside, rutting her with slow, forceful thrusts it is her name that tumbles off the omega's lips. Their lips, skin, thighs rub against each other. She grows sweaty, the omega's body warm and soft against her. She smells wonderful,_ feels wonderful _. Hot, wet, and desperately tight. Kassandra has to count backwards, concentrate on other things or she'll topple over the edge she's already skirting along._

_The omega tenses, arches into her, nails digging into her arm and her walls clenches hard around Kassandra. Then a frayed cry rips from her lips, her nipples stiffening. Kassandra pumps into her until her body shakes, her hot core throbbing around her._

_“Come for me.” It's a soft whisper, a gentle demand, and when she sees Chrysanthe's flushed cheeks, she cannot fight the oncoming wave of pleasure. She pulls out quickly spilling herself on the omega's silky, soft mound._

_They lay quiet for a long time. Kassandra on top of Chrysanthe as the omega runs her fingers through her thick hair._

_“You okay?” Kassandra finally asks. Had she been too rough? She did lose control for a bit. Chrysanthe kisses her temple._

_“I am with you. I am more than okay,” she murmurs. “But I should probably clean up. You've made quite the mess.” Her eyes glitter._

_Kassandra looks down between them and cringes. “I'm sorry.”_

_A thumb strokes her cheek. “Do not be ashamed, my love. I feared you wouldn't be so..._ timely  _.”_

_“Well,” she grins and lifts herself off the omega, “just put that down to my incredible level of self-control.”_

_Chrysanthe chuckles and gives her a light shove. “You mean counting backwards from a hundred?”_

_Kassandra stares at her. How could she possibly have known?_

_“You were counting out loud…”_

Kassandra, taken aback by the comment, blinked. Had Chrysanthe said that on purpose or by complete coincidence?

“I…” She fumbled for words, her brain clouded by the memories that had left her small clothes feeling much too tight. “Chrys—”

“Allow me to introduce myself. My _name_ is _Aspasia_ ,” Chrysanthe cut her off with a voice as sweet as honey. “I had to go to great lengths to cover up what you did in Megaris.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Kassandra made an innocent face. Or perhaps it was the flat stare Markos said she had. The one that said: “I have no time or interest in your games,” for Chrysanthe threw her arms out to the side in a grand gesture.

“Come now, when you lie in this house, you must lie even with your eyes.” The woman smiled, but it did not quite reach her eyes. It was a smile Kassandra had encountered enough times as a misthios to recognise. Deceptive and calculating. _So this is Aspasia._

“And I am sure you're an _expert_ at that.” She might have imagined the flinch flashing across the brunette's alluring features, but Aspasia quickly rearranged her face.

“We do what we must to survive, and there’s no shame in that. It’s how you got here - how _I_ got here.”

The way Aspasia emphasised ‘I’ Stirred an unpleasant feeling to life in Kassandra’s stomach. What exactly had Chrysanthe done to end up at this very symposium? As not just Perikles’ wife but his equal.

“You make an interesting choice in not dressing to fit in.” Aspasia studied her armour and for the first time, her lips pursed. _Kassandra, can’t you at least try?_ She could hear Chrysanthe berate her.

“It will take more than your Athenian chitons to make me fit in.”

Aspasia who had been stood looking down at her from the edge of the alcove took a step down closing the distance between them. Kassandra caught a scent of her fragrance then, sweet, and sensuous. Nothing like Chrysanthe’s honey and roses. That had been innocent. This scent was sweet, tantalising with a promise of something dark. Something wild. Something Kassandra had seen glimpses of during their time together.

 

“It seems we have the attention of the room without a single eye being fixed on us.” Aspasia’s voice drew Kassandra out from her thoughts. Then Aspasia took another step down, her face now levelled with Kassandra’s. Her eyes the same colours as Chrysanthe’s, her skin just as pristine and unweathered. The same inviting lips, but the woman standing before Kassandra was not Chrysanthe. This was a stranger, someone new entirely.

“If you’d like to talk, do it now, and do it discreetly.” Aspasia’s voice had turned hard, impatient.

“I’m searching for…” Kassandra paused. This wasn’t Chrysanthe, this woman, this Aspasia, could she be trusted? Could anyone who commanded a room, enchanted it so solely really be trusted? “A Spartan woman. And I was told I might be able to find some clues about her here at the Symposium.” It wasn’t a lie.

“What clues do you have to her whereabouts?”

 _Not much, Chrysanthe why else in Tartaros would I be here asking you?_ “Only that she may have gone to see Hippokrates in Argolis or someone called Anthousa in Korinthia.”

Aspasia’s lips curled in a smile. Perhaps the first genuine one for the night. “Ah, my dear friend, Anthousa. You  might find you recognise her when you get there.”

“I can’t say I know that many hetaerae.”

“Perhaps not. But when you find her, please tell her Aspasia sends her regards.”

“You often have others send messages to old friends? Or is it just the ones valuable to you?” She levelled her eyes with Aspasia’s. If it bothered the other woman, she didn’t let it show but stared back at Kassandra just as stubbornly. Just like Chrysanthe.

“If you don’t find what you’re looking for in Argolis or Korinthia go to Keos. Ask for Xenia, a...general of a sort.”

“Keos, Xenia,” Kassandra repeated and when Aspasia said nothing else Kassandra gave a short nod. “Thank you, _Aspasia_.” It was an odd feeling being the one to turn her back to walk away. Despite the years that had passed. Something soft touched her arm, just above the gauntlets.

“I watch the one most valuable to me from afar. No matter where I am. Even if I cannot risk speaking to them,” Aspasia said so quietly Kassandra thought perhaps she imagined it, but then the woman spoke again. “Return to me, Kassandra the Goat Killer.”

**Ω**

Her hands trembled for the first time in years. Though Aspasia had kept a watchful eye on the young misthios from the moment she left Kephallonia, she had not once seen the woman herself. Not in eight years. Not until tonight.

Until a few moments ago Kassandra had been but a name scribbled on a piece of parchment:

_Kassandra has become a misthios._

_The misthios is healing from a brawl with some bandits._

_The misthios visits Phoibe every weekend._

_The misthios has left Kephallonia._

_The misthios with the eagle of Zeus secured Megaris for the Spartans._

_The Eagle Bearer is hunting the cult._

Aspasia had known Kassandra was in Athens. Not only because Perikles had told her about this strange acquaintance of Herodotus, who he thought had information that could help him stop the war. But also because Aspasia had eyes and ears everywhere. And yet she had not been able to foresee the effect Kassandra would have on her. It had been eight years after all. Parts of her thought she would no longer recognise the woman—the misthios—Kassandra had grown into.

The stories Aspasia had heard of the legendary Eagle Bearer did not do her justice. The youthful round face Aspasia remembered had matured. The cheekbones more defined giving her face a more angular appearance. And though Kassandra had always been tall, before she was gangly and awkward looking, now, Kassandra looked like Athena herself. The red chest plate with its shoulders made her an impressive sight to behold. Aspasia had no doubt that the body underneath it was just as well-sculpted as the chest plate suggested, if the misthios’s arms and legs were anything to go by.

Once the misthios drew to a stop in front of her Aspasia had made sure she had kept her eyes firm on Kassandra’s. Frightened that if she let them drop to Kassandra’s hands the memories of being truly loved might be her undoing.

A shudder ran through Aspasia and she looked down at her hands. They trembled with such force she clasped them together to hide it from the other symposium goers. It wouldn't do to show them anything that could be used against her. Or Perikles.

Though Perikles was a powerful man, there was only so much he could do to protect her without losing his status. And she needed him for protection. Without Perikles she was nothing to Athens. Just another metoikos with no rights or claims to citizenship. The same obligations—if not more—but not the same rights. Without protection she had _nothing_. No drachmae, no estate, nowhere to go. Everything she'd built, everything she’d done to get to where she was would have been for naught. And she could not let that happen. Especially not now.

She was the new leader of the cult, barely two years under her belt. With the cult’s help, she could change the world. Make it better. Help lift Greece from the chaos that she was in. At least that was what she’d thought she could accomplish. But the cult had grown greedy, corrupt, just like the people they were trying to replace. The cult was driven by blood lust and an unhealthy obsession with sacrifices. She had tried to steer it towards a new purpose. Towards helping people, to bring peace. And for a little while she thought she’d succeeded, but then Deimos had risen in the ranks. And with him arose the sick fascination with the bloodline. She was still the leader of the cult, but was she still in control?

She was in enough control to keep Deimos from hurting his sister. From hurting Kassandra. He wanted to so badly to kill her, but Aspasia had told him to wait. Much to her surprise, Deimos had listened to her suggestion. It had bought her enough time to set the events in motion that would get Kassandra away from Kephallonia. If she wasn’t there by the time Deimos arrived, Kassandra would be safe. Elpenor, however, with his insufferable love for theatre had decided to  _improvise_. He had paid for his mistake in the end. But he had also invited an outsider into the closest ranks of the cult.

Kassandra knew of the cult now, and it would be even more difficult for Aspasia to keep her safe. To keep the cult away from her. What good would it do to tell everyone to stay away from Kassandra if the misthios herself was out for blood? For cultist blood. For _Aspasia’s_ blood.

**Ω**

“See, it wasn’t so bad, was it?” Phoibe smiled up at her, arms full of weapons.

“It wasn’t great.” Kassandra frowned, securing her spear on her back once more. She didn’t feel right without it. It had taken her many years to learn how to listen to it. To understand it. The connection she had with it made her feel vulnerable almost naked without it.

“But Aspasia is nice.”

“She is something,” Kassandra muttered.  

“So, are you staying in Athens for a bit?” Phoibe asked as casually as only an eight-year-old could.

Crossing her arms Kassandra tilted her head and gave the young girl her best spit-it-out-glare. “What are you fishing for?”

Phoibe sighed, her shoulder slouching forward as she dropped her head. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

“No.” Kassandra narrowed one eye in thought. What was she supposed to be remembering?

“You didn’t?” Phoibe whispered, almost awestruck as she looked back up at Kassandra. “So, we’ll still go?”

 _Shit. Where are we going?_ “But where are we going to…” She lingered on the last word waiting for Phoibe to fill in the blank spots for her.

“Aspasia says there’s a really nice bay a little bit outside of Athens. No sharks.”

 _Oh..._ Phoibe’s birthday. She had forgotten. Thaddeus or Lysandra would always remind her, and she would take Phoibe to swim by the shore below hers and Chrysanthe’s house. But now Thaddeus and Lysandra were gone. Of course she had forgotten. And she had important things to do. She needed to find her family. _We’re your family. Me and Markos, right Kassandra?_

She looked at the small girl almost jumping on her spot with excitement. Markos was a snake. He used everyone and anyone for his own personal gains. But she had been indebted to him. And so she'd gone along with his schemes. Until the vineyard. It had been the last drop. Phoibe, on the other hand, had been Kassandra's family for...almost as long as her biological one had been.

“But what is the fun without sharks? The thrilling fear of having your _arms_ bit off!”  She snatched with her hands at Phoibe’s arms drawing gleeful laughter from her as she defended herself against Kassandra’s jaw-hands. “Okay, I will pick you up in two moons time. Midday.”

“But that’s so late!” Phoibe’s brows furled.

“Midday.” Kassandra repeated. “Now go to Aspasia and be helpful.”

“Fine.” Phoibe pouted for a candle drop but then like a typical child she felt she’d sulked enough and a smile flashed across her face. “See you soon, Kassandra!”

“See you soon , brat.”

**Ω**

It was barely past sunrise when someone knocked on their bedroom door.

“Aspasia?” A small voice came from the other side of the door. Phoibe? Why was she up so early?

She climbed out of the bed, glad no one could see just how elegantly she moved while still sleep ridden. Pulling the robe off the chair next to the dressing table she slipped into it before opening the door. “Phoibe?”

Big, round eyes that glistened with worry looked up at her. “It’s Kassandra. She needs help.”

Perhaps Aspasia should have ordered Ianthe to help, it would have been the appropriate thing to do. Instead, she found herself rushing down the stairs behind Phoibe.

Kassandra sat slumped against one of the pillars her hands pressed against her stomach. Blood coated her fingers and a large gash could be seen on the lower part of her chest plate.

“Phoibe, wake Ianthe and have her bring me the leftover wine, some fennel mixture, and cloths.” The little girl bobbed her head once then set off running towards the servants quarters.

“Kassandra?” Aspasia said as she very carefully dropped to her knees next to the misthios. She looked pale, her skin covered in tiny pearls of sweat and grime. Aspasia curled her fingers into a loose fist and gently pressed the outside of it against the clammy skin.

“Chryssa…” Kassandra’s voice whispered and Aspasia turned her attention back to the injured woman. Her head lolled backwards, and she blinked trying to clear her vision.

“Kassandra,” Aspasia hushed her. “You can’t call me that anymore.”

The hand that had been clutching the spear came up towards Aspasia’s face then and then gently cupped her cheek. “You are the most beautiful woman I ever met.”

Perhaps it was the early hours but Aspasia placed her own hand on top of Kassandra’s. ”You are very kind, but I think it’s the nepenthes talking.” She smiled. She hadn’t noticed it when she first saw the misthios, but now she was closer she could smell it on Kassandra’s fingers. Whoever had managed to wound the misthios must have laced their weapons with the drug.

Kassandra sighed, her eyelids seemingly heavy as she blinked.

“Well, at least it should keep you from complaining,” Aspasia muttered as she plucked the hand covering the wound from its place. Something sharp had pierced the lower part of the chest plate. Where the hardened leather was at its thinnest. She peered closer and was relieved to see the armour had taken the brunt of the damage. But she wouldn’t know for certain until she got the chest piece off.

“I always loved that,” Kassandra’s thumb brushed across Aspasia’s eyebrow as if it was the most natural thing to do. A long time ago, it had been. “The way they dip when you concentrate. Or, you know…”

“Malaká, you’re going to get me in trouble,” Aspasia swore under her breath though she had to bite down on a laughter when Kassandra grinned.

“Now, _that’s_ the woman, I know.”

She felt her smile falter. Nothing about her was the same. Would Kassandra truly recognise her again? What would she think of the woman Aspasia had become? “Come, Kassandra, let me help you to one of the guestrooms. We need to get your armour off.”

“Oh, well, as flattered as I am,” Kassandra muttered and climbed to her feet slowly, her arm slung around Aspasia’s shoulders, “I don’t think the great Perikles would approve.”

“To clean your _wound_.” Aspasia shook her head and rolled her eyes. “But I am glad to know that Perikles won’t have to worry about the famous Eagle Bearer bedding his consort.”

“No matter, I have a boat full of women.” There was jest in the other woman’s voice but despite that Aspasia couldn’t help but feel a twinge of something ugly in her chest. Anger. Annoyance. Of course Kassandra would have a boatload of women swarming after her.

“Sit.” If Aspasia hadn’t been such a well-trained hetaera she would have simply dropped the misthios on her butt in annoyance. But Aspasia still had her dignity. Her pride. And so she helped Kassandra sit down on the mattress, ignoring the way her strong arm felt around her shoulders. How it stirred old memories to life. “Now, let's get this off.”

“You were always so bossy, Chry—”

“ _Kassandra._ ” Aspasia pointed impatiently at the chest plate. At this speed the idiot misthios was going to bleed to death before the armour came off.   

“Yes, yes. Armour,” Kassandra sighed then grimaced and hissed in pain as she tried to unbuckle the armour.  

“Careful or you’ll split your wound open even more,” Aspasia chided her then carefully put her knee next to Kassandra’s leg and reached for the clasps. Her robe fell open either side of her leg, revealing her bare thigh. She half expected Kassandra—spurred by the effects of the nepenthes—to reach out and touch her, perhaps even half wished she would. But it appeared Kassandra was on her best behaviour. She kept her eyes closed and leaned back on her elbows. Whether to keep herself from looking or because of the pain Aspasia wasn’t sure of.

When she was done Aspasia moved to the other side to undo the buckles and gently lift the chest piece off the wounded misthios. It wasn’t that Aspasia didn’t know armour was heavy, she simply never knew just how heavy it was. Tugging at it from one side would do no good. She dropped her gaze towards Kassandra’s lap. It was just to help her get the armour off.

With a sigh Aspasia put one knee on either side of Kassandra’s hips, curled her fingers under the armour and with more effort than expected slowly managed to pull it upwards.

“Ma Dia it’s heavy!” She gasped dropping the heavy piece of armour next to Kassandra. Her robe slipped off her shoulder revealing an inappropriate amount of skin.

“I’m bleeding to death, but at least you know how to distract me from it,” Kassandra murmured her voice low and husky sending a tingle darting up Aspasia’s neck. She was acutely aware of Kassandra underneath her. Like she had been so many times before. Just like this. Only with fewer clothes on. A memory of Kassandra wrapping her arm around Aspasia’s waist hand splayed out between her shoulders to keep Aspasia close flitted through her mind. The bruising kisses, Kassandra sheathed inside her. Stretching and filling her. She stopped herself. Like she always did before the memories became too real.

“There is no need to cry of wolves,” Aspasia kept her voice perfectly neutral as she pulled her robe close. “You’ve already stopped bleeding, I just need to clean your wound.”

Kassandra grunted. “And here I thought I was going to go the ferryman a happy woman.”

“Wouldn’t I have to send you back to your boat for that?” Aspasia pursed her lips and lifted the torn chiton revealing a mass of muscles and tanned skin. Aspasia lost her train of thought for a moment and almost missed Kassandra’s soft whisper.

“Or a few years or so.”

“Aspasia, my light, what are you—” She froze on the spot at the familiar voice coming from the doorway. Perikles didn’t finish the sentence as the sight before him, Aspasia straddling the misthios, no doubt stunned him into silence. Her hands pushing at Kassandra’s exomie most certainly didn’t help the situation. His eyes went from Kassandra, to Aspasia, back to Kassandra.

“You needn’t worry, your wife is just helping me with something,” Kassandra gave him her most innocent smile. Which spiked with a pinch of nepenthes looked like the grin of Cupid himself.

“I can see that.” Perikles’ forehead wrinkled in thought. “I apologise, I did not realise you knew Aspasia.”

“What a funny coincidence,” Kassandra said the corner of her mouth kicking up in a grin.

“Perikles, my love.” Kassandra stiffened underneath her. “Kassandra is a friend of Phoibe.”

“Sister.” They all turned to look at Phoibe who held a jug of wine in her hands, rags of cloth draped across her arm. “She’s my sister.”

“Right, well, perhaps Ianthe can help your sister now that she’s awake.” Perikles gave a nod at the maid who walked quietly into the room with the bowl of fennel paste.

“I would but I am not trained in how to clean wounds, master. Not like Aspasia.” The maid dropped her head apologetically.

“Right, of course.” Perikles’ eyes sought hers. They were hard, displeased. Like when too many of the men at the symposium craved her attention and got it. She supposed that meeting her at a symposium to begin with only helped stoke the seething fire inside him. As if every man was a threat. If he could get her attention, if he could get between her loins, then surely so could any other man at the symposium. This was when he would sneak off to sulk by himself, leaving everyone else at the symposium to drink, discuss and indulge in pleasures of the flesh.

When the night was over and the others had left, he would claim her. Prove to them both that she was his. And she let him. He was harmless. A simple man. A jealous man. Yet he had no qualms about enjoying himself with another hetaera when the opportunity arrived. Just like the wife he had before, Aspasia had to put up with hetaerae coming and going during the symposia. Perhaps it should bother her, but it didn’t. Though Perikles claimed he loved her, there was no room for love in her heart. Not anymore.

Eight years ago Aspasia had made a promise. She looked down at Kassandra. It was the last promise she’d meant. The last she’d ever keep.

She slid off Kassandra and walked up to her master placing her hand on his chest. “Perikles, please, it does not do well for a man to stare at a woman he hardly knows.”

This seemed to jolt him out of his suspicion. “No, of course not. I apologise.” He bowed his head and kissed her quickly before retreating from the room.

She turned to find Kassandra glaring at her, her mood sullen all of a sudden. Walking back towards the bed she nodded for Phoibe to go help Ianthe.

Ignoring the misthios’s dark glower Aspasia knelt down in front of her next to the jug of wine. She prodded the wound with gentle fingers drawing an irritated hiss from the misthios. The muscles on her stomach rippled when she hissed and Aspasia imagined running her fingers over them during entirely different circumstances.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” Amber eyes glared down at her. She didn’t justify this with anything but a patient smile.  

“Care to indulge me as to how you got this?” She dipped one of the linen cloths in the wine. Then gently she dabbed it at the wound drawing another hiss from the woman whose legs she sat kneeled between. She smiled. If Hermippus saw her now, he would surely try to have her ostracised for impiety once more.

“Are you… _enjoying_ this?” This seemed to sober Kassandra up.

“Having the famed Eagle Bearer at the mercy of my fingertips?” She flicked her head to keep her dark locks from falling in her face and inevitably on Kassandra’s skin. “I must say it’s not something I get to enjoy every day. But you’re avoiding my question.”

“Because I  don’t want to talk about it.” The misthios was in a foul mood now. Setting the jug of wine to the side she scooped a handful of the fennel mix onto her fingers then dragged it across the wound.

“Malaká!” Kassandra slapped Aspasia’s hand away. She flinched at the hard impact as fennel mix flew across the room landing with a sloppy splat on the far wall.

Aspasia, her hand still held mid-air, narrowed her eyes at the misthios. “You’re cleaning that up.”

“Sorry, I wasn’t prepared.” At least Kassandra had the decency to look appropriately ashamed.

Ever the expert at handling most situations Aspasia smiled. “I probably should have warned you.” But Kassandra shook her head reaching out with her hand towards Aspasia’s. A tingle darted through her chest when the misthios curled her fingers around her hand and drew it close to her face, inspecting it. It had reddened ever so slightly, but it didn’t escape Kassandra’s keen eyes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you...”

Words caught in her throat and she watched the hand that held hers. Gently like it was an expensive piece of pottery. Kassandra's strong alpha scent lingered in the air and for a heartbeat Aspasia almost laced her fingers with Kassandra's. She stopped herself. Ripped herself away from omega instinct to reunite with her alpha. Even though Kassandra never marked her, she'd given herself to the alpha. All of her. But eight years had passed. And Kassandra was hunting down the cult and was piecing together her broken family. And Aspasia had her task. Change the cult or bring it down. Besides that, she still had nothing to offer the alpha. Nothing but her flesh and her mind.

“It is quite alright,” she said once she found her voice once more. Silenced settled between them, the alphas' raised hackles slowly relaxing.

“Phoibe said you like to sail,” Kassandra said after a moment of silence, and this time when Aspasia smeared the mixture onto the wound she merely tensed. “I distinctly remember you saying you hated to sail.”

Aspasia allowed herself a soft chuckle. Phoibe had remembered that? There had been one day when Phoibe had looked particularly sad. When Aspasia had asked what was wrong, the little girl had said Kassandra had promised she would see her again. It was such a Kassandra thing to do. But now that Phoibe was in Athens what if Kassandra couldn’t find her? What if by the time it was her birthday the misthios still hadn’t found her, who would go swim with her? Kassandra had said she’d let Phoibe join her on the boat for the day.

Phoibe had seemed so small that day, and terribly sad. Just like Xanthippus would have been. Phoibe reminded Aspasia a lot of him. Of her son. He would be a good few years younger than Phoibe still. But they had the same innocence. The same curiosity and love for life. So, Aspasia had said that if Kassandra couldn’t make it, she would take her out on a boat herself.

Naturally, the little girl hadn’t thought of Aspasia as the seafaring kind. She wasn’t. And to say she _liked_ it would be a generous statement. But she did spend too many days travelling from Miletus to Athens and from Athens to Kephallonia.

“I didn’t say I _hated_ it,” she protested putting the last of the salve on the wound.  

“Then perhaps, if Perikles doesn’t mind, I could make it up to you by taking you on a boat ride?”

She let a small smile slip looking up from the paste neatly applied on Kassandra’s side. Kassandra’s gaze flickered with...insecurity?

“On Phoibe’s birthday of course,” Kassandra clarified.

“Well,” she leaned back on her heels placing both her hands on Kassandra’s thighs to steady herself, “if it’s for Phoibe…”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey! You're still here. Like it so far?  
> Please feel free to leave a comment right below.  
> It's quick and you don't need to even be a member. 🙏🏾💜


	3. What It Felt Like To Be Loved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're all too damn AMAZING! Thank you so, SO much for all the love, comments and everything.  
> Shit, you rock! I'm super disappointed in the DLC so this is my way to handle that shit show. *sob*  
> Like, I can't even...with the whole...forcing Kassandra into sleeping with a man to have a baby and... *barf*  
> Anyway, enough about that. You're all amazing for sharing this journey with me. I love these two so much!
> 
> Ade = pronounced "ayde" it can mean multiple things, but in this case, it's in the meaning of "come on". It's difficult to explain, but I think you'll get it when you read it.  
> Kardia mou = My heart  
> adelfoula = sister  
> Papagálo = Parrot, funny trivia, this is what me and my ex used to call my cat who liked to sit on my shoulder. :P  
> Mou = my, so anything with mou would be like "my parrot", or as in agapi mou "my love".  
> Katalavenis = Do you understand  
> Fibula= Pins for clothes like the shoulder pins
> 
> Anyway, I so hope you enjoy this, if you do please comment. *beggy arse hands*

If you're interested there's a playlist for this chapter because I had to channel my inner angst bitch.  It will most likely be updated with every chapter because: music and feels!

[An Unfinished Life Chapter 3 Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/user/elmjuniper/playlist/5zzWyQLwpzZNpB05wwINAa?si=bvZ74YATSYm7CukB9-yhHA)

 

* * *

 

 

Twice in one day. That was how many times Kassandra had seen Chrysanthe since she arrived in Athens. For eight years the only times she’d seen Chryssa was in her dreams, and now it seemed the fates kept bringing them back together. Kept bringing her and Aspasia together.  

Kassandra scratched the back of her neck. On her way back to the Adrestia Kassandra had decided to look into one of the cultist clues she’d found. A house in the nicer parts of Athens. Said to belong to someone involved with the cult. It was late at night, and if this house was as nice as they said, there was a fairly big chance the owner was at the symposium. She might as well have a peek at the very least.

It started well. She’d remained hidden in the shadows moving from one hiding place to the next, the soles of her sandals soundless on the muddied ground. She’d snuck in unseen and was rummaging through some scrolls when a name caught her attention. _Aspasia_. And just like that, the mighty Eagle Bearer lost her focus. Why was Aspasia mentioned in the scroll? She was skimming through the document when four guards walked into the room. She should have heard them. But Aspasia’s name and the two other names in the scroll had her forgetting to watch her back. It wasn’t until one guard let out an indignant shout she snapped out of it.

Four guards were a lot to handle even for Kassandra. And one of them had been lucky jabbing his spear into her side while she was busy fending off the other three. It wasn’t every day Kassandra fled a fight, but this time she had no choice. She could feel the poison cloud her senses the very candle drop it touched her skin.

She didn’t quite remember how she made it back to the symposium. Or more worryingly why. She remembered very little from it all, but she did remember Aspasia straddling her. Luckily for both of them, nepenthes had a considerable debilitating effect on one’s ability to perform or things could have gotten awkward. She wasn’t sure if Aspasia was aware of it, but her pulling at the breastplate had the warm spot between her thighs rubbing ever so slightly against Kassandra. And though nepenthes affected certain bodily functions negatively it heightened sensations. The omega’s scent was like an explosion of scents, like a drug to an alpha and memories of herself buried deep within Aspasia almost had her whining in frustration. And then Aspasia’s robe had slid off her shoulder splitting open in half in the front revealing her soft, exquisite bosom. If Kassandra closed her eyes, she could imagine the omega pressed close to her, arms wrapped around Kassandra’s neck as she moved up and down on top of her. Even in her nepenthes induced state that was a memory much too painful to indulge in and Kassandra had almost been thankful for Perikles walking in on them. Almost.

“So, you invited Aspasia?” Barnabas leaned his elbows against the railing.

“It appears I did.” Kassandra looked at the omega who stood next to the railing of the Adrestia laughing at something Phoibe said. Kassandra had seen Aspasia smile, the polite yet alluring kind she allowed all her guests. It was no doubt the smile that made the men at the symposium fall over themselves whenever she entered the room. But to see her laugh was different. To see her with Phoibe was different.

Phoibe said Aspasia had offered her a job once discovering the orphan group trying to scam her. But Aspasia didn’t act like an employer. _I like it here_. It was the first time since Phoibe’s parents had died that Kassandra had heard the young girl sound anything even resembling happy.

She smiled and shook her head. If Phoibe was happy, then so was she. And for now, it seemed she was safe. What more could Kassandra ask for?

“You know, she is breathtaking in this light.” Barnabas sighed next to her taking another sip from the tea in his bowl.

“I…” She blinked at Aspasia. She was. She’d always been, but she was Perikles's wife now. “She’s pretty, but she’s Perikles's—”

“Oh,” Barnabas’ eyes wrinkled with amusement, “I was referring to the Adrestia.”

She gave him a sidelong glare but before she could knock his bowl out of his hand Roxana’s voice carried across the ship.

“Little warrior!” Roxana, who Phoibe had developed a major crush on, called out from the starboard railing. “You know how to swim?”

Phoibe crossed her arms and lifted her chin. “I grew up on Kephallonia. Of course I can swim.”

“I don’t know who she’s taking after the most you or the pretty wife of Perikles,” Barnabas said a little too loudly causing Aspasia to turn around and raise her eyebrow.

“Barnabas,” Kassandra hissed at the old man who rewarded her with a hand behind his ear as if he was suddenly having trouble hearing.

“Kassandra! Come swim with us!” Phoibe called across her shoulders as she bolted down the stairs towards Roxana and Odessa who were halfway off the boat, their shouts and laughter echoing through the calm bay. It had been a long time since any of the crew had some downtime. They all deserved this moment of careless fun.

Shrugging Kassandra handed her weapons to Barnabas and followed Phoibe down the stairs. She stopped near the edge to take her boots off when Aspasia ventured down from the commander’s post to keep a closer look on Phoibe.

“Don’t tell me you’re too precious to go for a swim.” Kassandra turned towards her with a grin on her face.

“Sadly, I only brought my chiton,” Aspasia said in an almost believably mournful voice.

“Chitons dry.” Kassandra shrugged.

“I am _not_ going swimming in a chiton dyed and sewn in Kythera.” Aspasia held her hands out brows furrowed.

“You know I could just…” Kassandra motioned with her hands forwards.

Aspasia’s features grew hard, and her expression darkened. “You so much as _touch_ me and I will get revenge.” And then before Kassandra had time to react Aspasia’s face split up in a wide, almost childish grin as she gave her a hard shove.

Kassandra tumbled towards the surface to a chorus of laughter. Phoibe’s being the loudest. The brat would pay Kassandra swore, right before she hit the surface saltwater filling her nose and mouth. Kicking she pushed herself back towards the surface breaking it to see Phoibe clinging onto Roxana laughter bubbling from her lips.  

“You're going to pay!” She pointed a finger at the raven-haired beauty standing with her arms folded across her chest eyes sparkling. As if to say ‘I dare you’. “Oh, I’m coming for you.”

Pristine white teeth dug into the delicate-looking bottom lip when Aspasia realised Kassandra was swimming extra fast to get to her.

“No, Kassandra.” Aspasia shook her head, using her ever so serious voice but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. “ _Kassandra._ ” She tried again, hands held out in front of her, fingers splayed wide when Kassandra pulled herself up on the hull. And then when Aspasia realised no chiton, no philosophical argument in the world would save her, she spun on her heels.

Aspasia might have thought she was fast enough to avoid her, but Kassandra did have eight years to train her speed and agility. With a wolfish grin, she grabbed the omega’s wrist, and with a flick, she pulled the omega towards her.

Aspasia stumbled, crashing into Kassandra who caught her with ease. Though not one to give up Aspasia tried to wriggle her wrist free.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Kassandra laughed and wrapped her arms around Aspasia. _No one_ pushed her off her own boat and got away with it. Not even someone like Aspasia.

“Kassandra.” Aspasia dug her heels in. “Kassandra, _please_!” She laughed her hands cupping Kassandra’s face.

Kassandra blinked, the laughter so familiar. Warm, happy, and free like the days they spent on the overlook letting the days bleed to nights. The soft hands untarnished by hard work cupping her face, the light-brown eyes sparkling back at her. _Chryssa._

Kassandra’s chest filled with warmth, the kind she hadn’t felt in a long time, and Aspasia’s laughter caught in her throat. Her gaze flickered and her thumbs caressed Kassandra’s face just like she did that first night. _I’ve missed you._

“Kassandra…” There was a sadness in Aspasia’s voice that sobered the alpha up. It was the same sort of sadness she’d seen in Chrysanthe the last morning they woke up together. Whatever Aspasia had to say, Kassandra did not want to hear it. Not now.

“That pretty face of yours won't save you…” She took a step backwards. 

Aspasia’s lips twitched upwards in amusement. “You think me pretty?”

“More beautiful than Aphrodite herself.”

“Silver tongue…” Aspasia teased but her eyes flickered.

“You have no idea.” Kassandra grinned back and pulled the omega closer drawing a shuddering breath from her. “And you never will because I’m about to feed you to the sharks.”

An incredulous expression crossed the omega’s face, laughter bubbling from her lips. “Don’t you _dare_!”

“Oh, I dare.” Kassandra arched an eyebrow. “I am the Eagle Bearer after all. Nothing frightens me.”

It was like being back at the symposium. Everyone held their breath as Kassandra stepped across the edge of the Adrestia pulling Aspasia with her. Then in a most ungraceful manner, they toppled over the edge.

Kassandra broke the surface first to the roaring of laughter and cheers from her crew. It wasn’t every day they got to see someone like Aspasia brought down to the same level as themselves.

Breaking the surface a few breaths later the dark hair clung to the impressive cheekbones water dripping from the dark eyelashes. With slow strokes, Aspasia brought herself closer to Kassandra her gaze not once wavering from hers. Stopping only when she was but a breath away.

“You, misthios, have just sealed your demise.”

 _You have no idea._ “Threats, Aspasia?”

“A promise.”

**Ω**

Though most of the crew took far too much delight in her getting dragged off the boat, they were all kind and helpful trying to get her back up on the boat. But fine chitons from Kythera were heavier than they appeared when wet. In the end, she and Kassandra swam to the shore and walked to the cliffs the Adrestia lay anchored next to.

Kassandra had been the perfect alpha by offering her hand to Aspasia, helping her skip the short distance between the cliffs and the ship. She’d taken it, and tried to ignore how it felt to hold her alpha’s hand once more. How Kassandra’s hand seemed to fit hers as if they’d never been apart.

It wasn't until the lieutenant with sooted big eyes framed by a straight-cut black fringe looked at their hands that both of them let go. The way the lieutenant looked at Kassandra did not escape Aspasia one bit and she felt her hackles rise.

“This should work.” Kassandra turned around with the folded garment in her hands. An exomie. Aspasia couldn't remember the last time she wore something so ordinary. “It’s not much but…”

“It’s perfect.” Aspasia took a step forward and placed both her hands on the garment. It would—in fact—be a nice change not having to wear the chiton and all the heavy jewellery.

“Will this not,” Kassandra’s forehead wrinkled in thought, “proper women usually don’t…”

“Proper _Athenian_ women,” Aspasia took the garment from the alpha, “I am neither proper nor Athenian.”

“But you are Aspasia.”

She smiled turning around. “That I am.”

“Right. If you hand me your chiton when you’re changed I’ll make sure it dries before we return to Athens.” The alpha moved towards the linen sheets strung up to give Aspasia her privacy when getting changed.

“Or…” Placing the garment on the seating she slipped out of the soaked chiton. “You could just take it yourself.” It was a small revenge for pulling her off the boat, but revenge nonetheless. 

The alpha turned around slowly, her eyes going wide for a brief heartbeat before she regained her composure. But no matter how well Kassandra had learned to mask her feelings her scent betrayed her. It became stronger, more dominant, wild, as she strode up to Aspasia where she stood in the bare flesh, unabashed, chin tilted upwards.

Kassandra’s amber eyes filled with untamed hunger spurred by Aspasia’s own scent, the air between them heavy with pheromones. She pulled to a slow stop, her gaze brazenly roaming the omega’s body. Aspasia expected a snarky comment, perhaps even a flirty one. Not the low murmur that slipped across Kassandra’s lips.

“Why have the fates brought us together again? Are you Tartaros come to torment me?” The alpha’s throat bobbed as she swallowed. And when Aspasia’s eyes found Kassandra’s again the hunger was gone replaced by something else. Something she’d seen in the alpha’s eyes one late night outside their house on the overlook.

Leaning to the side Kassandra grabbed the garment and the fibulas, eyes locked with Aspasia’s as she let the fabric unfold in the air below her hands. Then she took a step forward and folded the fabric across Aspasia’s shoulder. She held it in place as she pinned the shoulders of the exomie in place.

The omega shuddered as the alpha’s fingers brushed against her skin. Lightly like a caring lover’s touch leaving goosebumps in their wake. The proximity between them heightened her senses and when Kassandra wrapped the fabric around her waist Aspasia lifted her hands resting them on Kassandra’s muscular shoulders. She could feel Kassandra's warm breath against her neck as the alpha adjusted the fabric. And a powerful urge, a longing to be near almost had her burying her face in the alpha's neck.   

Strong hands placed themselves on her hips tenderly turning her around for Kassandra to pin the last bit of the exomie together.

When it was done, Kassandra’s fingers pulled at the braid that kept the omega’s hair in place. Or whatever remained of it. Aspasia closed her eyes feeling her hair being combed. Just like Kassandra had done when they were still young and...in love. Things had been easier back then. When Kassandra still loved her. When she was Chrysanthe. When she was someone good.

If she could go back, she would. If she could freeze this moment and live in it forever she would. Instead, she felt Kassandra’s fingers withdraw, her hair now snaking around her shoulder in a thick braid. She smiled. The same one Kassandra used to make for her.

Turning around she looked at the proud warrior standing in front of her. The one people whispered about: a fierce, deadly, eagle bearing misthios that exuded power. But where Kassandra stood, chiton held in her arms, Aspasia only saw: Kassandra The Goat Killer. Uncertain, vulnerable...lonely. It was the face she had been too much of a coward to say goodbye to all those years ago and she hated herself for it.

“I’ll get these drying…” Kassandra motioned with the bundle of fabrics in her arms.

“Kassandra,” she took a step forward, then stood on her toes and pressed her lips against the alpha’s cheek, freckled by too many days sailing in the sun. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Kassandra smiled. A weak half-hearted smile.

 _For reminding me what it feels like to be loved._ “For being you.”

**Ω**

They spent the rest of Phoibe's birthday eating, fishing and laughing underneath the cawing seagulls. Kassandra's crew was friendly and open, some even indulging Aspasia in philosophical arguments. It was during one of those Aspasia noticed the alpha standing by the edge of the deck. She was looking at the horizon with the same faraway look Aspasia had seen in her eyes when they sat on the roof of their small house. Amber eyes glued to the horizon as if Kassandra would be able to spot Sparta if she stared long enough. Chrysanthe would let her disappear into that place if only for a short while. Then she would caress her cheek, bring her back to reality.

The alpha held her head high, eyes firm, squinting at the sun. But her chest rose and fell in a heavy sigh and Aspasia knew Kassandra was somewhere else entirely. She was about to excuse herself when the lieutenant wearing a black exomie and a red shawl wrapped around her waist walked up to Kassandra. Her fingers brushed against the alpha's arm, and when Kassandra tore her gaze away from the horizon, the lieutenant smiled and leaned into the alpha. Kassandra in return laughed softly and nodded allowing the other woman to lean into her.

If Aspasia had any right to be jealous, she would have been. Instead, she quenched the fiery hot anger swelling to life in her chest and focused all her attention on Phoibe.

“Aspasia, did you know they sleep _on_ the deck?”

She smiled. “Well, it is a trireme. That doesn't really leave any spots for sleeping quarters.”

“Roxana said she'll show me how to manoeuvre the ores.” Phoibe's eyes shone with excitement.

“Oh,” she arched an eyebrow, “I'm sure Kassandra will appreciate having another pair of hands to row the ship.”

“That she will,” Roxana agreed. “But go get some water from Barnabas first. I don’t want Kassandra to kill me for forgetting to water her little adelfoula.”

Aspasia scoffed softly. Kassandra killed as easily as others passed judgement and yet she doted on the little girl whenever she was around. She looked up to see Kassandra laugh at something the lieutenant said. The other woman was attractive with stark, black hair, a lean body, and infectious laughter. Her hand, Aspasia noted, rested on Kassandra’s well-sculpted abs.

“Ugh,” Roxana groaned loudly next to Aspasia, “if only those two could get a room.”

Aspasia blinked at the couple in front of her. She’d seen the way the alpha moved around the other woman. Always close, small unnecessary touches whenever the opportunity presented itself. Aspasia shouldn't feel so surprised. And she most certainly should not feel the white-hot jealousy she felt spreading through her chest at the thought of Kassandra’s hands exploring the other woman’s body like it had done Aspasia’s.

“I _always_ get the tent next to them. And Odessa is _not_ the quiet type.” Roxana glared at the couple.

Roxana’s words conjured an onslaught of unwanted images of Kassandra and Odessa locked in a lover’s embrace. It was unreasonable, unladylike and still, Aspasia wanted nothing more than to strangle Odessa where she stood. Taking a few deep breaths Aspasia forced the anger down. She had no right to feel possessive over the alpha. She was free to engage with whoever she wanted. Though Kassandra was etched into Aspasia, the omega could not expect the same from the woman she left standing on the overlook years ago. In fact, love, and happiness was what she had wanted for Kassandra. Even if she could never be part of it.

“Is she...happy?” By the gods, she did not really want the answer to that.

“I think...I think it’s a good thing Odessa isn’t the jealous type, or there would be more war than lovemaking on this boat.” Roxana chuckled, the word lovemaking, making Aspasia’s throat feel dry.

Aspasia frowned. “Jealous?”

“Kassandra has a lot of admirers.”

She crossed her arms. “That, I don't doubt.”

“I mean _a lot_.” Roxana grinned and took a deep sigh. “There was the woman on the beach...Odessa of course, a huntress, oh and that old woman, we didn’t see Kassandra for two days and she walked funny afterwards.”

“I don’t need to—” Roxana’s hand on her arm as she remembered something else interrupted Aspasia mid-sentence.

“Oh, and that Aikaterine.” Roxana tutted.

“Aikaterine?” Aspasia said a little too loudly drawing the attention of the alpha who turned her head.

“Ade,” Roxana tutted and slapped Aspasia’s arm, “you just got us in trouble.”

“And just why are we talking about Aikaterine?” Kassandra put her hands on her hips as she pulled to a stop in front of them. Narrowed eyes scowling at them.

Aspasia scowled right back pouring every ounce of anger she had into it. A simple pornaí, one that men used to go to because it was said she sounded like a gentler version of Aspasia. That she _was_ a gentler version where it counted.

“Aspasia, why don’t we have a talk while Roxana gets back to showing Phoibe the ship?” Kassandra motioned with her hand towards the front of the ship away from the other women in the crew who sat in small groups talking. Some of them lying on their backs sunbathing.

“There is nothing to talk about,” Aspasia said nonchalantly. Kassandra bared her teeth, a low growl rumbling in her throat. The omega pulled her lips back in a snarl that matched the alpha’s. Alpha or not, Aspasia had grown a thick hide over the years. There was no alpha out there who would dominate her, and certainly not one who bedded someone like Aikaterine.

Roxana looked from Kassandra to Aspasia. Her mouth formed a silent ‘oh’, then before getting caught between the two she promptly turned and walked off in a brisk pace.

Kassandra, visibly taken aback, tilted her head, her expression softening. “You are angry,” she said, head tilting to the side, “I can tell.”

"Can you now?" 

"You're scent..." Kassandra started but fell quiet at Apsasia's hard stare.

Angry? Angry did not even begin to cover what Aspasia felt where she stood. Betrayed. Hurt. She blinked and looked away from the alpha. Worthless. Hugging herself she walked towards the front of the ship.

“Why Aikaterine?” She asked when they were far enough away from the others. She could hear the exhale escaping the alpha’s lips as she took a step closer.

“Is she a friend of yours?”

She gave a derisive snort. “I would hardly say that. But I have heard of her.”

“And what exactly have you heard of her?”

Turning around Aspasia hugged herself harder. “I know what the men who pay her say about her and me.”

Kassandra said nothing just looked back at her with those eyes that always spoke more than the misthios herself ever did.

“We have a history, you and I. A life unfinished,” Kassandra spoke softly, “but I respect you. I respect your honour and I would never do anything to harm that. Aikaterine...”

“I’m sorry.” Aspasia averted her eyes. _I respect your honour,_ Kassandra’s voice echoed in Aspasia’s head. Of course, the alpha respected her honour, who else did? Ever since Aspasia left Kephallonia she had been nothing but flesh, a vessel for men to spend their carnal pleasures in. Now she was admired for her intelligence, for her wit and charm, but they all played the game that was to be played in Athens. Amongst the scholars, the elite. Nothing was truly genuine, everything was a tale, or an argument won or lost. She was no more a person now than she had been before. And then the orphaned misthios from the poor island of Kephallonia came along. Humble. Respectful. But she wasn’t telling Aspasia everything. Her scent did. _I am lonely. Lost. Tired. I am yours._      

Aspasia reached out for the alpha then. For her alpha. Silenced her with the palm that pressed against her chest and travelled up to rest on her neck as Aspasia leaned into her. She pressed her ear against Kassandra’s chest, and there she heard it, the faintest sound of a heart beating. Breaking.

“Do you think life will be kinder to us this time?” Aspasia whispered.

Kassandra pressed her lips against the top of Aspasia’s head. “I don’t know, kardia mou.”

And this time it was Aspasia’s own heart that broke.

**Ω**

“Did you have a good time?” Kassandra asked Phoibe who sat perched on her shoulders as they made their way back up to the villa. Her small hands wrapped themselves around Kassandra’s chin to keep herself steady.

“It was fun,” Phoibe said with a yawn that made Aspasia glance up at her. The omega kept looking at them, making sure Kassandra wasn’t going to drop the little girl on her face. She looked pointedly at her hand that held onto Phoibe’s leg. She’d been carrying Phoibe on her shoulders since the little girl was old enough to sit there. By now Kassandra could to it blindfolded, hands tied behind her back, running from the Cyclops.

Aspasia sighed and mouthed a silent ‘okay’ at Kassandra, then touched Phoibe’s leg to get her attention. “Which was your favourite part?”

“When you fell off the boat.” Phoibe giggled.

“You mean when Kassandra _dragged_ me off the boat.” Aspasia gave Kassandra a sour glare.

“It was funny,” Phoibe said with a smile in her voice, “it reminded me of when mat—” she fell quiet and Kassandra exchanged a look with Aspasia. Did the omega know? Was that why she had hired Phoibe?

“Come here.” Aspasia held her arms out towards Phoibe and Kassandra lifted the small girl up and gently handed her over to Aspasia who pulled her close. “It’s okay to talk about them, you know. Maybe even a good thing to remember them,” Aspasia spoke softly. A memory from their time together, imagining a future with Chrysanthe and children flitted through Kassandra’s mind and she looked away.

An unpleasant scent reached her nose, and she sighed.

“Aspasia!” The beta’s voice cut through the setting evening sun. “Where have you been, the guest have all—” He stopped at the sight of her. Exomie and her hair unstyled and pooling freely across her shoulders. “What are you wearing? What is this?” Perikles sounded aghast, and it rubbed the alpha the wrong way. The beta sensed the change in her demeanour and threw a quizzical glance her way. He was a small, timid man. The people called him kind. For a man of his time, perhaps he was, but the way he spoke to Aspasia was belittling and demanding.

“There was an accident.” Aspasia’s voice snapped her attention away from Perikles. “With a shark, vicious one you see, and Kassandra here was in deep trouble.”

Now the omega had her interest, and she tried not to look at Aspasia as if she was hearing a really good story. Perikles looked at Kassandra.

“ _So_ deep.” She gave him a smile. One that would rival that of Astraia goddess of innocence and justice.

“And since she can’t swim very well,” Phoibe giggled at Aspasia who kept her face serious and earnest, “I had to help her.”

“Oh.” Perikles scratched his stubbled chin. Then his eyes sought Kassandra’s. “It seems my Aspasia has a _fine_ habit of lending you a helping hand.”

“Just like I did you.” Kassandra bowed her head.

“Yes…” Perikles said intoned then put his arm around Aspasia. “My light, let's have you escorted through the back door so Ianthe can make you presentable for our guest. Xenophon and his wife are waiting for you.”

Kassandra bit down on her growl until they were out of earshot and only then did she let it vibrate through her throat.

“You don’t like Perikles much.” Phoibe watched her, cheeks still wet from having cried and Kassandra let out a heavy breath.

“I like him fine, but you were going to say something about Thaddeus and Lysandra.”

The little girl’s lips quivered, her face scrunching up as she tried not to cry again. Eight years old and already trying to be a grown-up. It was too soon.

“It's okay, Phoibe, come here.” Sitting down on her haunches she motioned with her hands and the little girl wrapped her arms around Kassandra’s neck. “Ela, ela…” she soothed the little girl, stroking her head gently until her shoulders stopped shaking. “You know your parents _loved_ you, right?”

Phoibe nodded her face pressing against Kassandra’s neck. “And they would have wanted you to remember them. To talk about them, and it’s okay to be sad, Phoibe. It’s okay to cry.”

“You don’t cry.” Came the muffled reply. Kassandra chuckled then. She had done her fair share of crying. And though she was a hardened misthios now, tears weren’t a stranger to her. They weren’t something to be feared. There was no weakness in feeling.

“I cried when I lost my parents. I would cry if I lost someone I loved. Being strong and brave has nothing to do with not crying. Katalavenis?” Phoibe nodded again. “So, why don’t tell me what you were going to say?”

Leaning away from Kassandra the little girl looked at her with a small smile. “When you and Aspasia were being silly, you reminded me of mater and pater. They would be silly all the time. And you look at each other like mater and pater did. It made me feel…”

Kassandra tilted her head, arms still wrapped around the small body. “Feel?”

“Happy,” Phoibe said slowly guilt bleeding into her words.

“That’s good. Your mater and pater would have wanted you to be happy.” She stroked hair from Phoibe’s face. “You want to know a secret?” Biting her lip at the prospect of learning one of Kassandra’s secrets Phoibe nodded. “I was happy to.”           

“But now you will leave again.” Phoibe’s face fell.

“Come now, papagálo mou, I’ll be back. You won’t even have time to miss me with all the work Aspasia is making you do.” She jerked her head in the villa’s direction and winked at Phoibe who smiled.

“You promise?”

“Promise.” She ruffled Phoibe’s head then pulled her in for a hard hug. “Now go,” she jutted her chin towards the entrance to the villa. “You need your sleep if you’re going to grow up strong like an ox.” She flexed her bicep and was rewarded by a peck on her forehead.

“Okay, but don’t forget to write to me!” Phoibe waved one last time before slipping inside.

Chuckling Kassandra stood back up. She should probably find Aspasia and bid her farewell. “Where are Perikles and his wife?” She asked one of the guards coming from the villa.

“I think I saw them in the garden by the fountain.” He pointed towards the far end of the large garden covered in overgrown trellises.

“Chaire.” She gave a friendly wave with her hand then made her way towards the fountain. Voices drifted from that part of the garden, followed by the sparkling laughter Kassandra recognised so well.

She stopped, hidden by the trellises. The man and a woman stood opposite Perikles and Aspasia. Xenophon and his wife? Perikles had his arm around Aspasia, and the light from the small braziers painted a golden hue over the omega's face. She was beautiful, reminding Kassandra of the nights they spent together on Kephallonia. Curled up on the bed, Chrysanthe reading Homer’s Iliad, the soft glow from the bedside candle illuminating her soft features. Chrysanthe would lie with her head in Kassandra’s lap reading out loud while Kassandra played with the soft, blonde curls. Watching her from the shadows it made the alpha ache with a longing she thought she’d buried years ago.  

The woman said something that made Aspasia smile and nod her head. Kassandra was watching her, the way she blinked slowly with each nod. The soft lips that curled in a polite smile. Then Perikles bent down to give Aspasia an affectionate kiss on the cheek and she closed her eyes, her nimble hand caressing his stubbled cheek lovingly.

Kassandra swallowed, her throat feeling dry. Aspasia looked _happy_. Ice cold pain stabbed her chest. Of course Chrysanthe was happy. She was living the comfortable life she always wanted. Surrounded by minds just as sharp as hers. Surrounded by power and wealth. Next to someone she loved. Blinking Kassandra swallowed down on her emotions. Chrysanthe was happy with someone else. Her chest tightened, and it felt like she wasn't getting enough air no matter how deep she breathed.

She had no place here. She and Chrysanthe had their life once. It had come and gone and there was no getting it back. She'd been a fool to think anything else. Because of a few moments together again. It meant nothing to Aspasia. _Kassandra_ meant nothing to Aspasia. This wasn’t Chrysanthe, she knew that. Chrysanthe didn’t exist anymore. The woman she once loved was nothing but a ghost. And with that final realisation, the misthios turned her back and disappeared into the pitch black night. 

 


	4. What is Truly Hers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is gonna hurt.
> 
> How did this chapter make you feel though? GIVE ME ALL YOUR FEELS I NEED THEM!  
> They literally feed my soul. 
> 
> Skatá=shit

* * *

 

**Athens, **Mounichion** 427 BC**

She perched on the rooftop of the House of Aphrodite watching the street below her. The streets further down were mostly empty save the occasional drunkard, metoikos or slave making their way home after a long day’s work. On the street below her a few customers were greeted and lead into the courtyard behind the house Kassandra crouched on.

Soft laughter and low murmurs floated through the cool night air. The pornaí and their customers making polite, somewhat awkward small talk before they disappeared into their rooms for a few minutes of pleasure. They didn’t notice her where she perched like an ominous shadow above them. No one did. Was this what her life was going to be like? Lurking in shadows while others went home to their families? Or sought warm comfort somewhere else? Would she ever be more than the Eagle Bearer? Would she ever not be alone?

She dropped her chin towards her chest and closed her eyes. Her chest felt funny, unsteady, and she rubbed her hand across the hard chestplate. Being near Chrysanthe wasn’t good for her. It opened old wounds. Wounds she thought had healed. But watching Aspasia with Perikles was torture. She couldn't stay anymore. She had to leave. Get away. She would have to do what she couldn't do that night on the outlook—she had to walk away.

There was only one thing left for her to do before she departed. She picked at the scroll in her hand. It mentioned Gordias, another drachmae hungry misthios. Nothing unusual when it came to mercenaries, but the scroll, it mentioned both Thaddeus and Lysandra being targeted. And Aspasia.   

She would talk to this Gordias and find out what he knew about Thaddeus and Lysandra. And what he wanted with Aspasia, if he was a threat or not. She clutched the old lance in her hand. If he had anything to do with their deaths or so much as sniffed in Aspasia’s direction...She may not mean anything to the omega. And perhaps it wasn’t her place but she would wipe any threat to Aspasia from the very face of the earth.

With a determined shake of her head and a sigh, she lowered herself onto the small balcony. Aikaterine's voice was drawing closer and what sort of clever misthios would Kassandra be is she wasn't in the room to greet them?

She slipped inside the room through a small window managing not to catch her foot on the window frame this time. The room was small with only one bed and a modest table. Scented oils and candles littered the table and Kassandra dreaded to think what they had all been used for.

Aikaterine’s voice drifted towards the door and Kassandra sidestepped, placing herself next to the bed away from the door. Aikaterine sounded just like Aspasia though with a tinge of sultriness. One that Kassandra very much doubted someone like Aspasia would ever be caught using. Much too tawdry. And still, it sent a tingle darting up her spine.

The door creaked open, a beam of yellow light filtering through the gap. The man not much taller than Kassandra with long ratty hair stumbled drunkenly into the room as Aikaterine closed the door behind her.

“Gordias?” Kassandra stepped out from the shadow she was hiding in, to the startled yelp of Aikaterine and indignant huff from the mercenary. “Leave us.” She shot the blond woman her deadliest glare and watched the pornaí flee the room.

“Malaká! I’ve paid good drachmae for that pornaí!” Gordias hissed his hand grabbing for the sword that should be strapped to his hip.

Kassandra smirked. Too bad no weapons were allowed for customers. And too bad for Gordias that she had zero amount of skatá to give. She was tired, hurting and not in the mood to have another fight on her hands.

With one hand at his throat and elbow across his chest, she slammed him hard against the wall.

“Wait, wait,” Gordias wiggled beneath her strong grip, “whoever paid you for the contract I'll pay you double the drachmae.”

“And what kind of misthios would that make me?” She almost laughed. Not even she was that desperate for drachmae. She might as well lay down her lance and never work again should she take his bribe. What person would trust a misthios who couldn't even finish a simple contract?

“Please, I won't tell anyone. I'll—” His voice was desperate but it cut off when she squeezed her fingers into the flesh around his neck.

“Tell me why you had a contract on Thaddeus and Lysandra of Kephallonia.”

He blinked back at her, his mind no doubt trying to remember which of his completed contracts she could be referring to. Then his eyes snapped into place. There it was.

“I-I can't tell you!” He struggled beneath her arm. Something about the contract had him scared.

“Tell me about it or I will slit your lying throat!” She wouldn't, it would leave too much of a mess for Aikaterine to clean up, but he didn't need to know that.

“I can't. If I tell you I'm _dead._ ”

“If you don't tell me, you'll be dead anyway,” she hissed.

“They have eyes _everywhere,_ misthios.”

She closed her eyes. This was going nowhere. She dug in her fingers with such force his shout of pain was but a wheeze. “Why did someone put a contract on Thaddeus and Lysandra? And what do you want with Aspasia? I’m losing my patience.”

“Aspasia?!” His fingers clutched at Kassandra’s wrist, desperately urging her to loosen her grip. She let go of his throat but kept her elbow pressed hard against his chest her free hand reaching for the spear on her back. “I don’t know why the contract was sent, that is something you will have to ask Aspasia about.”

“What do you mean?” Her hand froze mid-air.

Greasy, hair fell in his face as he cleared his throat. Coarse and sore from Kassandra's hard grip. “She’s the one who ordered the contract.”

“You’re lying,” she snarled. It was a lie, it had to be. Aspasia wouldn’t...

His eyes found hers then and a smile crept onto his chapped lips. “Oh, she may fool everyone else, but I know what she really is. A whore.” He spat.

“What did you call her?” The alpha instinct in her stirred to life and she drew her fist back staring him down.

“She is the poison that makes Athens sick. She comes here a whore and—”

“Do not call her that!” The growl that rose in her throat sent the man whimpering. He was a liar and a coward and she should end his miserable life.

“You’re an alpha.” It was barely a whisper. “Are you _her_ alpha?”

It was only then Kassandra realised the newly oiled blade of Leonidas’ spear was pressing into Gordias’ neck. Right below his Adam’s apple. His eyes were round with fear, barely daring to breathe with the spear at his throat.

“Are you absolutely sure it was Aspasia?”

“I-I can’t be, you have to ask her. I never met with her, but it was her name on the contract.”

Kassandra sighed. “Now tell me, what am I to do with you? Last time I let someone live they tried to ambush me.”

“I will walk away and not return, please misthios.”

She pressed her nose against his neck scenting him. At least she pretended to. He was a human, he would smell of nothing to her, but for effect she let him think otherwise. “I will know if you so much as get _close_ to Athens. You better run, Gordias. Before I change my mind.”

She let him go and sheathed the broken lance again. Had Aspasia really ordered the contract? Kassandra shook her head. She knew the omega was no longer Chrysanthe, but why take in Phoibe if that was the case? An unpleasant thought crept into the alpha’s conscience. What if Aspasia was cleaning up after Chrysanthe?

“Did you have to scare him that much?” Aikaterine stepped into the small room putting her hands on her hips.  

“I don’t like him.” Kassandra shrugged.

“Neither do I, but he was a good customer. Now he’s not going to return.” Aikaterine’s brows furrowed.

Scratching her neck Kassandra felt a sting of guilt. Aikaterine had helped her get to Gordias and now she was one customer short. “How often does he visit?”

Aikaterine snorted. “Misthios, if you’re going to offer me drachmae, do not bother. I can take care of myself.”

“Of course.” Kassandra smiled keeping her eyes on the slightly long face and light-blue eyes. As a reminder that it wasn’t Chrysanthe. Though with the blonde hair, the silky smooth voice and similar height it was easy to be fooled.

“But who takes care of you, Kassandra the Eagle Bearer?” Aikaterine asked softly, this time her voice taking on a different tone. As if she was no longer performing for the customers.

 _No one._ “Just like you, I take care of myself.”

Reaching out with her hand Aikaterine gave the door a hard push then took a step closer to Kassandra. Her face was barely visible in the dark room, but her breath hot on Kassandra’s lips.

“Why don’t you let me take care of you? Just like last time?”

The night before last. Kassandra had been searching for a general when she’d walked into the House of Aphrodite. Or rather dropped in. Her wound had still been bothersome and she’d slipped off the edge of the roof landing almost on top of an indignant Aikaterine. Who—at the sight of the poor misthios—had offered to take care of her. Maybe it was the lingering effect from the night before, Aspasia straddling her, or how Perikles scent had been all over the omega. Whatever the reason, Kassandra had followed the woman up the stairs and into her room.

Her scent was nothing like Aspasia’s but her voice, her lips and tongue. In the dark Kassandra couldn’t tell the difference. And when Aikaterine breathed ‘fuck me’ into Kassandra’s ear the alpha had succumbed to the fantasy she had locked away for so long. Chrysanthe under her again, wet and pliant. Mewling and moaning with every thrust.   

Clearing her throat Kassandra took a deep breath. “As much as I would like for you to do just that…” She bit into her lip when Aikaterine’s hand brushed against her growing hardness. “I have something I need to do tonight.”

“I know,” Aikaterine purred.

“ _Something_ not someone.” She put her hand on Aikaterine’s slender wrist.

A sigh sounded through the darkness but the blonde woman’s grip of her loosened. “Well, don’t hesitate to come see me again.”

Kassandra moved over to the window slipping outside when Aikatirine’s soft hand pressed itself on top of hers.

“Be careful out there, many whispers of the dangers on the streets.”

Turning around she took Aikaterine’s hand in hers then pressed her lips against the soft skin above her knuckles. “You too.”

Then she dropped down to the street and made her way back towards the grand villa. She stuck to the shadows, avoiding guards, and civilians alike. Until she reached the well-guarded gates of the estate. The guards, recognising her, greeted her with simple nods. She greeted them back. For now, they were allies. But if it turned out either Perikles or Aspasia had anything to do with the deaths of Thaddeus and Lysandra things might very well change. She would walk away from Aspasia but as an enemy or ally remained to be seen.

**Ω**

“Is it true?” The voice that cut through the night, cold, and hard startled Aspasia who spun on her heels. When one of the guards had informed Aspasia that someone needed a word with her, she’d assumed it was perhaps one of the servants.   

“Kassandra?” She frowned as the alpha stepped out from behind the trellis Perikles had insisted would create a perfect gazebo on the large terrace. “Is what true?”

“Did you order Thaddeus and Lysandra’s deaths?” The alpha lifted her gaze, eyes searching, almost pleading with the omega. For her to tell Kassandra it wasn’t true.

“I…” The question took her by surprise, and though she had become something of a master manipulator, a liar by trade, Aspasia found herself fumbling for something to say. Their eyes locked and in that very moment, Aspasia knew Kassandra could see the truth reflected in her eyes.

Kassandra let out a sharp breath as if she’d been stabbed. “It is true.” The alpha shook her head, eyes flickering back and forth.

“It’s not what you…” She had to explain before more damage was done.

“You killed Phoibe’s parents!” Kassandra threw her arms out to the side, eyes wild.

“I _had_ to.” She moved towards Kassandra who jerked away from her as if she was the very blood fever itself.

“You had to? Why? For drachmae? To get rid of any evidence of who you once were so you can live your comfortable life without a care in the world?”

“That is _not_ true.” She could feel her voice tremble with anger. Kassandra had no idea what life was like for her. She made assumptions based on what she saw nothing else. “I did it for Phoibe.”

Kassandra laughed and shook her head. “What have you _ever_  done for someone else that didn’t benefit yourself?”

“Kassandra, everything I’ve done so far has been for you, to keep you—”

“For me?!” The alpha’s voice rose as she shoved her hands towards her own chest.

“Yes, Kassandra, please listen to me.” She tried again but the alpha threw her hands up in the air and paced back and forth. Then as suddenly as her anger had erupted Kassandra stopped pacing her gaze locking with Aspasia's. 

“You broke my _fucking_ heart, Chrysanthe.” It was said in a barely audible whisper. So quietly that if Aspasia hadn’t been watching the alpha, she would have missed it altogether.

 _Chrysanthe_. No one had called her that since she left Kephallonia. It was Kassandra’s and Aspasia didn’t want it tainted by the people, the men she was going to have to entertain. She wanted to reach out for Kassandra, have her whisper the name to her like she used to. But there was nothing but white-hot fury in the amber eyes staring back at her. Searing their hatred into Aspasia’s very core.

“You took what you needed and left me like a fool on that rooftop. You left me to clean up the mess of you malákes destruction. I _won’t_ let you do that to Phoibe.” She dropped her gaze.

“If you would only let me explain.”  

Kassandra shook her head not even looking at Aspasia where she stood.

“I don’t even know you anymore.” Defeat. The alpha’s entire demeanour had changed and when she lifted her face Aspasia thought her breath might catch in her chest. The anger, the fury had seeped from the alpha’s eyes. Hopelessness. Sadness the only thing to remain.

“Kassandra…”

The alpha closed her eyes, pain wrinkling her features, pulling the corners of her mouth downwards. Then she turned away from Aspasia and walked up towards the edge of the terrace. There she stopped and turned her head to look at Aspasia across her shoulder.

“You are only alive because Phoibe _loves_ you. She trusts you, but if you let so much as a stray of hair get hurt on Phoibe I _will_ find you. And then we won’t meet as old friends but as enemies.”

“Kassandra, please,” Aspasia felt her voice quiver as she pleaded with the alpha. _Please don’t go_. But no matter the rumours surrounding the Zeus blessed misthios, the alpha could not hear her thoughts and so she pulled herself onto the ledge then launched herself off it.

Aspasia’s hands shook wildly, her mind reeling. She waited for a few heartbeats. Perhaps Kassandra would return. Climb across the ledge and tell her she was willing to listen, to talk. But the night remained quiet and undisturbed.

“Kassandra?” She whispered stumbling backwards. Kassandra was gone. She’d lost her. Again.

A sob ripped from her lips. Raw and unfiltered away from the prying eyes downstairs. One she had kept bottled up for much too many years. She clamped one hand over her mouth, muffling the sobs that racked her entire body, the other grabbing on to the trellis, steadying herself as she leaned forwards weeping into the unforgiving night.

**Ω**

She stilled her breathing, forced herself to inhale slowly. The guests at the symposium would soon notice her absence and she had to collect herself before Perikles sent someone to fetch her.

Carefully, she plucked the pieces of herself from the floor, put the mask neatly together in place and with sharp inhale blinked away the tears.

In the house of Perikles one had to lie with even their eyes, she'd told Kassandra. It had, for once, been the truth. She moved into the bedchambers and over to the dressing table to dab her eyes with a soft cloth. She caught a glimpse of her reflection. Her skin still as smooth as years ago only a few wrinkles starting to show at the corners of her eyes.

“Aspasia?” She closed her eyes at the sound of Perikles’s voice. She wasn’t in the mood to play games with the symposium goers. All she wanted to was go downstairs and stand in her spot, watch the others in silence, her mask comfortably in place. So that no one would know the turmoil and chaos raging on inside.

“Yes?” She pretended to rub oil onto her cheeks as if to touch up her makeup.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, of course, darling. I will be down in just a moment.” She avoided looking at him, hoping he’d leave her alone. There were enough guests to engage in philosophical discussions with. Enough hetaerae to enjoy himself with. The fine fabric of his chiton rustled as he moved towards her and she had to hold her breath not to stiffen under his touch.

“I was thinking, perhaps we don’t have to go back down. It’s late. And I would like to spend some time with my consort.”

“Perikles.” She didn’t bother to keep the sigh from her voice. No one else was around. “There are plenty of guest and hetaerae for you to entertain tonight.”

“But I _want_ my consort tonight.” He pushed her chiton over her shoulder and pressed his lips against her neck. It drew goosebumps from her for all the wrong reasons.

“Of course,” she whispered and got to her feet. It was her duty as his consort. And no matter how many speeches she wrote for him, or how many philosophers she taught rhetoric to, this was still why she was in Athens. In the most powerful house in Athens. This was how she got to where she was.

She let her chiton drop to the floor. Let the man run his hands and lips all over her and when he pushed into her with a satisfied grunt she fisted her hands into the sheets, turning her face away from him. He wouldn’t notice her tears either way but in that moment they were the only thing that was truly hers.


	5. An Hetaera's Secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who read and commented so far. I fucking love you!  
> Glad this ship is getting so much love, who would have thought?! Not me.  
> If you're not subscribed head on over to my twitter: @lmjuniper  
> or tumbr: http://inkedshepard.tumblr.com/  
> I post phot edits/manips, updates etc there. 
> 
> Se agapo = I love you  
> Chryssoula = Greeks adds -oula, -itsa, -aki etc at the end of names to denote affection.  
> Agape is pronounced: ah-GAH-pee

* * *

 

**Mykonos, Skirophorion 427 BC**

Three moon cycles had passed since Kassandra left Aspasia standing on the terrace of her villa. The further away she got from the omega the easier she was to forget. Her scent no longer invaded Kassandra’s senses. Didn’t make her feel like she was missing a part of herself. Gripping the railing on the Adrestia, with the moon and stars guiding them towards Keos she let the winds that tugged her hair pull the memories of Aspasia away from her and into the endless night.

They had landed on the shores of Keos when the sun stood at its highest the next day. What should have been an easy stroll into the village ended up being a chase and run for dear life.

Pirates. Malákas pirates! Yet another thing Aspasia had forgotten to tell her about. _Sealife can be hard,_ was not the same as, “beware of the pirates, Kassandra.” Luckily she’d made her way up to Xenia’s lair in one piece. Only to be sent on her way.

Seventeen _thousand_ drachmae. The pirate was even crazier than Kassandra had first thought. Who on earth had that kind of drachmae? Someone who wanted clues about her mater’s whereabouts, she’d grumbled to herself and gotten to work.

A trip to Boeotia to seek out the young doctor Euripides had mentioned and a month later Kassandra had stepped on to the bustling docks on Mykonos. To help the rebels. Quick and easy drachmae. Once she was done she would have enough drachmae to pay Xenia for the information she had about Myrrine.

Mykonos, Island of the Winds. Like Kephallonia she was poor but beautiful with her long white beaches and high rising peaks. Though she was poor, the dock by the crystal blue water still bustled with life. People crowded the streets under the colourful canopies where merchants put all their finest goods on display. A wide variety of pottery, fresh fruit and fish, island-made chitons and peplos, and well-crafted weapons and armour. Whatever one looked for it could be found along the crowded streets.

But Tavern Point and her humming market and alleys were not the only things that had caught Kassandra’s eye on the island. Kyra, the rebel leader who wanted Podarkes the cultist dead and who had offered Kassandra a hefty sum should she help, had also caught her interest. An omega. A rarity. Tall with big expressive eyes, a temper like the furies themselves, and an unapologetically sharp tongue. The first person to ever throw a knife at Kassandra and live to tell the story.

It would be a shame to kill such a beauty. Especially when the rebel leader had offered her both drachmae _and_ a cultist, how could Kassandra say no? Two birdies, one Kassandra. But one did not take down a corrupt leader in just a day. She really had to work for it. Together with Kyra. And the Spartan hothead Thaletas who she cared very little for. Too Spartan for her taste.

She couldn’t quite say when or how it started. At first, she simply did what Kyra asked of her. Her mind set on the goal to collect enough drachmae to pay off Xenia. Getting one step closer to finding her mater. Then gradually the two of them started spending more time together. Meeting at the tavern, seeing who would be the first to succumb to the sour Athenian wine, or hunting for ibexes together. And suddenly they were watching the stars together. And when Kyra laughed Kassandra felt at ease for the first time in what could have been years. She couldn't remember the last time she laughed so much. Had so much fun with someone.

It was so easy to like Kyra. To desire her. The omega spoke with such fervour, and intensity, anger leaking into her words. She burned with the same passion for revenge. For the family she lost. Just like Kassandra. When Kassandra said she would make every cultist suffer for what they'd done to her family, Kyra didn't argue with her. Didn't look at her with shock. Instead, she had nodded, her eyes two pools of swirling anger.

Kyra understood in a way no one else could. What it was like to want revenge, to hurt, to fight every day for survival in a world that was hard and cruel. Where you could trust no one but yourself. This was a lesson Kassandra had learned the hard way. Something she should have known. And yet Chrysanthe—Aspasia—had gotten the better of her.

She closed her eyes, forcing the diamond-shaped face and light-brown eyes from her memory.

Fingers raked through her hair where she lay on the rooftop staring up at the stars and the full moon.

“Your thoughts are somewhere else tonight.” The omega pressed herself closer. “What are you thinking?”

Kassandra chuckled. Where would she start? “Just thinking about tomorrow night.” She settled for turning to face Kyra.

“Tomorrow night? Really Kassandra?” Kyra rolled on top of the alpha, straddling her. “My company isn’t enough to take your mind off Podarkes for one night?”

Kassandra rolled her hips lazily and dragged her hand up Kyra's thighs. “First of all, you're wearing too many clothes. Second, it doesn't hurt going over plans multiple times.”

“Oh, Kassandra of Sparta,” Kyra chuckled lifting her chiton above her head, “though you are the most magnificent warrior I've met, a silver tongue you are not.”

She raised an eyebrow at the omega before quickly flipping them over. “I think you'll find that you're wrong about that.”

A purr, low and sensual escaped Kyra as she pulled Kassandra closer. “You claim me  wrong?” She kissed Kassandra, her lips hungry, and soft, nipping at the alpha's lips.

“Yes,” Kassandra muttered in-between kisses, her hands helping Kyra out of her small clothes.

“Well, I think you might just have to prove it.”

**Ω**

Port Piraeus. It was the first place Aspasia had set her foot in when arriving in Athens. For all the places she had visited before then, Athens was almost unearthly with the Parthenon rising stoically above the city.

She had been much younger then. She had been Chrysanthe then, travelling to Athens to begin her studies in philosophy, rhetoric, and reading. She would stay in Athens many years focusing solely on her studies. Then when the time was right she and Agape would travel for Korinthia to begin their work as hetaerae. The cult needed drachmae if it was to accomplish all its goals. And everyone had a role to play. Even Chrysanthe.

Her pater had said it was an honour to be a hetaera. To be worshipped by men. Desired by them. And once she was ready for it she would shoulder an even larger responsibility. With her fair looks and intelligence, she would become the Bride of Kosmos. And that was an honour beyond anything else.

Aspasia stared at the stone ledge of the terrace, the full moon above her casting shadows across it. Kassandra had stood there looking at her like she couldn’t bear the sight of Aspasia any more. A look of utter betrayal etched on to her beautiful features.

The omega closed her eyes pulling at a different memory. One she had tucked away inside where no one else could get to it. Not even Aspasia. It was a memory only Chrysanthe could access.

_She’s in heat and she should stay in her room, away from any alphas wanting to claim her. Mark her. She shouldn’t be wandering the deserted road from Kausos on her own. And she definitely shouldn’t be wandering towards Kassandra. An alpha._

_She was supposed to leave a scroll for the alpha at their regular meeting place, but Kassandra must have continued to the small house when Chrysanthe wasn’t there. She could leave Kassandra waiting, she would understand once she came to find her. Angry, and annoyed, but mostly because the alpha no doubt missed the omega._

_Chrysanthe decides that she will only explain to Kassandra then leave. She knows Kassandra will not hurt her. Won’t try to mark her. She is to go to Korinthia in a month’s time to start her work as a hetaera. Her chastity has already been sold for more than a handful of drachmae to some nobleman from Athens._

_She hasn’t even reached the perimeter of their house when the alpha is upon her. And Kassandra’s scent is overwhelming, pheromones thick in the air as the alpha’s body subconsciously starts courting hers._

_“Chryssoula mou,” Kassandra murmurs and all resolve, all wit, escapes Chrysanthe, and she leans into the soft kiss. She knows she shouldn’t be kissing Kassandra. Knows she should stop the alpha when her hand snake in underneath the omega’s peplos to cup her breast, dragging her thumb across her nipple. But she doesn’t. Instead, she pulls Kassandra closer, drops her hand and rubs the hardness between Kassandra’s thighs. Chrysanthe is an omega in heat, she craves it, needs it._

_Her peplos falls to the ground, and she barely has time to worry about bandits or a lost soul wandering up near their house before Kassandra lifts her up and walks them inside. She’s on her back, pulling at Kassandra’s exomie almost ripping it. She needs the alpha closer. Her impatience draws an amused look from the alpha. Then realisation dawns on Kassandra._

_“Why do you smell so good tonight, Chryssa?”_

_She bites her lip._

_“Chryssa.” Kassandra drops her exomie to the side of the small bed. “Are you in_ heat _?”_

_She nods, her entire body alight with desire. Warm and ready for everything the alpha has to give her. Kassandra hesitates and Chrysanthe sends a quiet prayer of forgiveness to the gods as she locks her gaze with the alpha’s and slips a hand between her thighs._

_Kassandra’s gaze doesn’t stay locked with hers for long but drops to the hand between Chrysanthe’s legs. Stares as if in a trance as Chrysanthe’s fingers drag across the slick lips the alpha so adores. She adds pressure as her fingers brush across the small bud at the top drawing a hiss from herself._

_It’s enough to send Kassandra’s thoughts of heats out their still open door and soon she thrusting, rutting into Chrysanthe. And she wants to remember this moment. Wants to keep it forever. Remember everything about it. How the setting sun caresses Kassandra’s broad shoulders and tousled hair. The powerful alpha scent, and the way her brows curl with pleasure as she slides inside, amber eyes adoring Chrysanthe where she lays on her back._

_She wants to etch this moment into her mind. So that when she closes her eyes this is what she sees. Kassandra’s face. Her eyes. And even as the pleasure builds Chrysanthe refuses to close her eyes. She drinks it all in. The sounds, the smells, the crystal clear sensation when Kassandra’s fingers find her swollen, sensitive bud._

_Her breathe catches, trying to keep up with the alpha. She wants to wait for Kassandra, wants to share everything, but every nerve, every cell tingles. Even the air around her feels like it’s caressing her body, driving her mad. Her breathing becomes whines and moans. She tries to hold on, for Kassandra, but then before she can stop it she’s soaring, flying across the edge she’s been skirting along._

_She arches into Kassandra, her alpha, who guides her through the storm that shakes her body. She feels herself pulse, and flutter around the alpha whose eyes widen and when she moves to pull out Chrysanthe wraps her leg around her keeping her in place, letting her finish with long, slow thrusts until she’s completely spent._

_“Se agapo,” she whispers when Kassandra goes limp in her arms, breathing heavily._

_“That was…” Kassandra starts but falls silent unable to find the right words. And then—seemingly out of nowhere—the alpha starts laughing, her breath a tickle at Chrysanthe’s neck and soon she laughs just as light-heartedly. And the more they laugh the harder they cling to each other. Until Kassandra can barely breathe and tears stream down Chrysanthe’s face. When they fall asleep Chrysanthe thinks to herself that tonight was surely a night she will never forget._

Chrysanthe dragged her fingers against her chest just below her collarbone. Somewhere above her heart. She had been foolish in life. Made many mistakes. But Kassandra would _never_ be one of them.

“Be safe, wherever you are,” she whispered to no one in particular but perhaps to the wind so it would carry her words to the alpha, “Kassandra of Nowhere.”  

**Ω**

“The famed Eagle Bearer! On her knees crawling in the sand like a filthy Athenian dog.” The Spartan man spat at her.

This was not the end to the day Kassandra had envision when she drove her spear through Podarkes’ throat early that morning.

After an entire moon cycle of planning and raiding the Athenians’ supplies, the opportunity had finally presented itself when Kassandra had snuck into the large estate to look for a doll. Of all the things that would lead her to strike the killing blow to Mykonos’ tyrant. _A doll_ , one that had proved Kyra was Podarkes’ daughter.

With the constant attacks on the supplies, and the Spartan army pushing relentlessly against the Athenian forces on the beach, the Athenians were spreading themselves thin. Podarkes’ usually well-guarded estate had less than a handful of guards patrolling the perimeter. It had been too easy, but the rebels did not care. The tyrant was dead, Mykonos was free, and they were going to celebrate.

Kassandra still remembered the look on Kyra’s face when she told her. About Podarkes being her pater. And that he was dead. Hope, happiness, dread, and shock, all of the emotions rolling in across her face. And while the others drank and celebrated Kyra snuck off to a cliff. To send the man she had hated for an entire lifetime off to the underworld. The man she’d known as a tyrant all her life. A murderer. The man she suddenly knew as her pater. Her own flesh and blood.

Kassandra left Kyra on her own so that the omega could gather her thoughts before returning to her rebels. But before Kassandra left Kyra had thanked her. Kissed her and asked her to stay on Mykonos. If only for a little bit longer. Kissing the omega back, her face clasped between her hands Kassandra said she could return after finding her mater. And that she would stay. But as always the gods had a sense of humour when it came to her life.     

“Thaletas, you don't have to do this.” Kassandra held one hand up towards the Spartan, the other hand clutching at the wound in her side. She'd been sloppy, not expecting him to attack when she turned around to leave. No, not sloppy, stupid. She of all people should have known better. He was a _Spartan_ after all. Glory and honour in death and all that. She spat sand onto the beach. The bastard had moved to attack her, and she'd swung to deflect his sword only to be met by a fistful of fine sand. It burned her eyes like the fiery gates of Tartarus. And now there she was crawling in the sand, half-blinded by the late evening sun and sand, with a deep gash in her right side.

“You took _everything_ from me!” Thaletas threw his arms out, thick veins protruding on his neck as he roared down at her.

She laughed then, despite herself. A burst of deep throaty laughter. When would she learn laughing at her foes was not the smartest thing to do?

A primal roar erupted from his mouth, his words failing him. And when his voice finally failed him too, all she could hear was his heavy breathing. Like a crazed animal about to attack.

“Kyra was _mine,_ ” he growled out and flicked his wrist readying it for a final blow. She clutched the spear in her hand. Faint, wordless whispers guiding her next move. His swing slowed, his bellow warping to an odd dulled sound. As if Kronos had reached out and plucked at a string of time just for her.

The spear of Leonidas cut through flesh and cartilage, severing muscle and sinew. She never quite understood where she found the strength in battle. To carry on when others would surely have fallen. But once again she willed her body to move despite the pain in her side. Despite every part of it screaming at her to stop, to slow down. To rest.

The Eagle Bearer did not rest.

“Kyra belongs to  _no one_ ,” she snarled. _Stupid Spartan!_ He could have walked away, instead, he chose to attack her. She had no choice but to defend herself. He would survive, but he would never be able to use his arm again. Not that she cared much for the Spartan or any Spartan for that matter, but Kyra did. And she cared about Kyra. Perhaps more than she should.  

Blood sprayed onto her hands as he toppled over a pained scream ripping from his lips as she pulled the spear from Thaletas’ back. Another scream echoed his. Shrill and panicked. Kyra.

“Kassandra!” The omega dropped to her knees next to Thaletas pulling him into her arms. “What have you done?!”

She blinked stumbling forwards. How much blood had she lost? She looked down at her feet not sure which blood was hers and which was Thaletas’.

“Don’t just stand there help him!” Kyra demanded, brows curled in fear and anger. Kyra’s voice must have carried towards the town as curious villagers drew closer to see what the commotion could be.

“A healer, bring a healer!” Someone called. A figure, blurred in Kassandra’s vision, pushed through the crowd dropping to their knees.

“Why?” Kyra looked up at her, tears staining her cheeks. “Why did you do this?”

“He attacked _me_. I tried to walk away.” She brushed her hand against the cut on her side, fingertips getting sticky with warm blood.

“The legendary misthios walking away?” Kyra laughed bitterly. “You just had to try to kill him, didn’t you?”

“Kyra, he left me _no_ choice.” Her brows furrowed. The way Kyra said it made it sound like she enjoyed killing. As though she did it because she had nothing better to do. She killed out of necessity. She killed because it was how she’d learned to survive in a world that wasn’t too kind to young girls without a family. Drachmae didn’t grow on trees. And for a young girl, there were but a few ways to earn drachmae, two of which she had no interest in doing.

“How could you do this to me?” All the happiness from earlier had evaporated from the rebel leader’s voice.

“Kyra...I’m sorry.” She took a step forward towards Kyra.

The beautiful face that kissed her underneath the stars contorted with emotions, all of them aimed at Kassandra.  “Just leave. I don’t _ever_ want to see you again.”

**Ω**

Three days. Three long days spent under the hot sun braving the unruly Aegean. The blazing sun and churning waves kept Kassandra busy from doing much thinking. A blessing and she thanked the gods as she wiped sweat from her brow.

They reached Korinthia four days after leaving Mykonos having stopped by Keos to get Xenia's clues to Myrrine's whereabouts. By the time they reached Korinthia the entire crew had been worked to their limit. Kassandra told them to stay in the harbour until she was ready. Take the time to rest up and enjoy a few days of not being on the sea.

Kassandra, on the other hand, had launched herself into completing the jobs needed to be done to prove she could be trusted. No one met with Anthousa before she decided they were trustworthy. And all she had to do was take down the Monger. Another power-hungry man trying to force his will onto a city. Luckily for Kassandra, the Monger’s ego made him think he was invincible. And the easiest target was someone who thought they couldn’t be touched. Couldn’t be opposed.

It always came like such a shock to them. The truth. And the same could be said about the Monger. The man who had threatened her mother. That he would kill her and send her head to the cult as proof. Kassandra had been glad to drive her spear through him. Silence him for good. Another cultist dead at her hands.

She stepped into the spacious house with the faded red walls and patterned marble floors. She only had to wait a short moment before she was greeted by a short woman in a red chiton, her slim neck adorned with golden jewellery and brown eyes all too familiar.

“Agape?” Kassandra smiled and shook her head as she hugged Anthousa. _Of course_. Aspasia had said to send her regards to her dear friend.

“Kassandra,” the hetaera said her name like it was only yesterday they’d escaped the Cyclops’s house. “How many years has it been?” Agape looked exactly the same only a few years older. But her face was just as pretty, her skin as exquisitely tanned as before.  

Kassandra chuckled. “Too many. I haven’t seen you since Chry—” she stopped herself from speaking the name that caused her such heavy, unpleasant tugging in her chest. “Since Kephallonia.”

Agape took a deep breath. “It is a time I shall never forget. Perhaps the last time I saw Chrysanthe truly happy.”

Kassandra shrugged keeping her face impassive at the mention of the woman she once loved. “Aspasia sends her regards.”

Agape hummed with a nod. “I heard you met her.”

“Our paths crossed briefly.” Was all she offered pretending to look at the shelf full of scrolls.

“Kassandra,” Agape smiled, “come sit with me before you go on your way.” She motioned towards a fashionable table accompanied by a seating group.

She sighed. “It’s alright, Agape. It was a very long time ago and I—”

“Sit,” Agape ordered with such authority Kassandra instantly dropped into one of the chairs next to Agape. She watched the other woman pour tea into two small glasses.

Her nimble hands held the pot between the tips of her fingers making the mundane task both elegant and sensual. She was a hetaera after all.

Kassandra frowned in thought. How had Agape ended up in Korinthia after Megaris? “How did you end up here?” she asked and by the amused tilt of Agape’s head, Kassandra had a feeling she wasn’t going to like the answer. “You were going to marry in Megaris…”

The smaller woman pushed the tea towards Kassandra. “You know there were many things Chrysanthe never told you.”

Kassandra narrowed her eyes but when Agape tilted her head to the side and gave a patient nod it dawned on the alpha. She exhaled and dropped her chin towards her chest. How stupid could she be? “You were never going to Megaris.”

Agape shook her head, glass held between her delicate looking fingertips.

“You were coming here to be hetaerae.”

A nod.

A knot formed in Kassandra’s stomach. Chrysanthe had come here to...entertain all these clients. She felt nauseous at the thought of the omega who’d shuddered underneath her do the same with her clients. Swallowing Kassandra took a deep breath.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t Chryssa? I wouldn't have…” She didn’t quite know how to finish the sentence.

“She wanted to protect you.”

“Why?”

Agape’s lips pursed and she crossed her leg over the other. “Would you really have let her go?”

“It wasn’t up to me.”

Agape laughed softly. “Would you really have let her go?” she asked again.

Kassandra sighed and shook her head.

“Do you have any idea how much drachmae Chryssa was worth?”

“Why do you talk about her like some commodity?” Kassandra felt the alpha inside her stir to life.

“Because Chryssa was. _Aspasia_ was. Her chastity was sold for more drachmae than even you can earn in calendar cycle.”

 _Oh._ She scratched the back of her head averting her eyes away from the hetaera.

“Yes…” Agape drawled.

“Well, I didn’t know.” Kassandra tried to argue.

“But you thought she was going to be marrying a Megarian and you still…” Agape shot a glance at Kassandra’s red skirt, right below the belt. It was done so unabashedly Kassandra almost felt herself blush under the hetaera’s piercing stare.

“We were young and stupid,” she admitted.

“Yes, you were. Which was why we had to leave so suddenly. They had to control the damage done. And so Chryssa left. To keep you safe.” Agape sipped from her tea.

“Keep me safe?”

“Come now, Kassandra. What do you think someone who stands to lose that many drachmae would do if they found out about you. That you were the one who indeed had taken the sweet chastity of their newest hetaera. That you were the who got her…” Agape paused setting down the glass on the table. “Everything Aspasia has ever done from that day on has been to protect you.”

“From your employer?”

This time when Agape looked at her there was no amusement in her eyes. “Yes, but more than that…from the eyes and ears,” Agape spoke in a low, hushed voice.

“You mean...the Cult of Kosmos?”

“Yes.”

The damn cult! Meddling with everything in Kassandra’s life. A growl grew in her throat until something about what Agape had said sank in. Just how was Aspasia in any position to protect Kassandra from the cult?

“How can Aspasia protect me from the cult?”

“How do you think?”

“No…” Kassandra shook her head. Not Agape. Not Chrysanthe. For how long? “You’re a cultist?”

How could the cult reach so far, sink its claws into so many different people? She rubbed her face in frustration. Like the Hydra, the more cultist she cut down the more heads it grew. Was there anyone she could really trust anymore?

“Not everyone has the luxury to choose their fate. Some of us are born into the servitude of others. As was both Aspasia and I. Born into the cult. Raised by the cult. For a very long time, we knew nothing else.” Agape paused again to collect her thoughts. “But with knowledge comes autonomy. And slowly we began to question things. Question the cult.”

“Do you know what I do to cultists, Agape?” Kassandra locked her eyes with the hetaera’s.

“Aspasia did tell me to be cautious.” Agape gave a slow nod. “But if I don’t tell you, you’ll never understand why things happened the way they did. Why things _are_ the way they are.”

Kassandra shook her head trying to clear her thoughts. “Very well. Then explain to me why they sent you to work as hetaerae? Why not have you go out and kill and cause mayhem all across Hellas like the rest of your crazy cult?” Kassandra felt her temper rise. The woman she had once loved was a cultist. Part of the cult Kassandra was erasing from Hellas.

“Drachmae doesn’t grow on trees, Kassandra. We are all given roles to play, and Chrysanthe had the biggest responsibility on her shoulders.”

“What do you mean?”      

“Chrysanthe was always meant to be used as the cult's most formidable tool. To be in the midst of the wolves, always there but always invisible.” Agape explained.

“You mean Perikles? But she loves him.”

This time Agape laughed her eyes sparkling. “Aspasia was placed with Perikles as part of the cult’s plan. But she holds no love for the man or the cult.”

Kassandra shook her head. She’d seen the two of them together. She’d seen the way Aspasia acted around Perikles. “If that was true then why not leave the cult?”

Agape’s expression darkened. “There are things you do not know, Kassandra.”

“Like why your cult had Thaddeus and Lysandra killed.” She pointed an accusatory finger at Agape.

The hetaera’s forehead wrinkled. “Did you ask Aspasia why she had them killed?”

“Well, I found…” She paused. She had asked why. But had she listened?

“Did you ask or did you do Alpha Kassandra and just assume and lose your silly head?” Mirth crossed Agape’s face when Kassandra grimaced. “Ah, I thought that might be the case. Thaddeus and Lysandra were, just like us, cultists.”

“Malákas,” Kassandra muttered. Was there anyone in her life that wasn’t a cultist?

“Remember how I told you everyone has to play their part for the cult? They were sending…” Agape paused her gaze uncertain for the first time since they sat down to speak. “They were sending Phoibe to start her training. To help provide for the cult.”

 _Sending her where?_ Kassandra’s eyebrows furrowed.

“To me,” Agape filled in as if she could read her thoughts.

Sickness washed over the alpha. “But she’s only eight!”

Agape nodded. “When I told Aspasia she promised me she’d deal with it. She’d already lost one…” Agape shook her head and drew a deep breath. “One person she loved to the cult. And she knows what life as a hetaera is really like. She could not stand idly by and watch the same thing happen to Phoibe.”

“Then why not just take Phoibe and run? Leave the damned cult?”

“Because the cult took everything from Chrysanthe. _Everyone_ she loved.” Agape heaved a sigh and looked out through the door, eyes suddenly distant. “After we landed in Korinthia and things happened, Chryssa swore she would change the cult or it would go down. Since then she has not strayed from her goal.”

“What happened when you got here?” There were still so many pieces of the puzzles she wasn't getting.

“I’m sorry, Kassandra. I’ve told you everything I can, but that is not my story to tell. Now, what are you to do with me?” Brown eyes, weary brown eyes sought out Kassandra’s.

“I will take you away from here, away from the cult. Anything I can do to help.” Though Agape may be part of the cult, Kassandra trusted her. The hetaera had never chosen to join the cult. Kassandra knew Agape. She was not evil. Not like the rest of the cult.

A sad smile pulled at Agape’s lips. “And what of my girls, who need my protection?”

“Then I will destroy the cult and you will no longer be bound to them.”

Agape, getting up from where she sat walked over to Kassandra and pressed her lips against the top of her head. “If anyone can do it, it would be you.”

She squeezed Agape’s hips gently with her hands then stood up to leave. “Be safe until it’s done.”

“I will.” Agape nodded as Kassandra passed her moving towards the door. She had to get back to the Adrestia. Had to go back to Aspasia. To Chryssa. There were so many questions she had to ask. So many things she needed to say.

“Kassandra?”

“Yes?” She stopped by the door and looked at the hetaera.

“Before you leave, make sure you visit the shrine near the dock. Chryssa would go there often.”

For a brief heartbeat, she was going to ask why, but the way Agape looked at her made her simply nod. “I will.”

**Ω**

The shrine erected underneath a cherry tree was covered in flowers petals, scented oils and incense. Small baskets of offerings littered the ground, and more women than men loitered around it.

Kassandra had never seen a shrine-like the one before her. A woman with a serene face framed by wavy hair held a plate in her hand. A goddess, one Kassandra didn't recognise. Why on earth had Agape told Kassandra to come here?

An older woman with greying hair arranging flowers on the shrine caught sight of the alpha and approached her slowly.

“Chaire,” the woman said gently.

“Chaire,” Kassandra replied politely her gaze dropping to the petals in the woman’s cupped hands.

“Are you here to pay tribute?”

“To the goddess? Not really,” Kassandra replied a little more blunt than intended.

“No,” the woman smiled, “this is Eileithyia goddess of childbirth's shrine for all the unborn children.”

“Unborn…?” _The cult took everything from Chrysanthe._ Everyone _she loved._

“For those children taken from mothers before their birth.”

Kassandra felt her entire world come to a stop, the memory of a night spent with Chryssa replaying itself in Kassandra’s mind. The night during Chryssa’s heat.

Her eyes flickered from the shrine to the woman’s hands. And then without a single word the woman grabbed Kassandra’s wrist and pressed the petals into her hands.

“Even alpha maters are allowed to mourn.”       

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *exhales* Well, things certainly took a new turn...and just so you know...  
> I love, LOVE hearing from your thoughts of the chapters. Please comment, it makes my day.


	6. Selene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all amazing. Thank you for the love!  
> The comments, the kudos, and whatnot.  
> These two will probably be the death of me.  
> Also, it appears I just don't know how to stick to canon. *facepalm*  
> But all the better for you readers, aye?  
> Technically Aspasia and Perikles' son was named Son of Perikles, but that's just a mouthful, really.  
> So instead of correcting my earlier mistake of using Xanthippus, we'll just pretend that's his name. ;)
> 
> Hit me up on twitter if you want: @lmjuniper  
> Or tumblr: inkedshepard.tumblr.com
> 
> Glossary:  
> Naí=Yes  
> Agape is prononuced ah-GAH-pee  
> Fengári=moon
> 
> ~Elm

* * *

 

Also Special thanks to Vanguardian_HarHar who found the theme song for this entire fic  
_Windswept by Crywolf_   (read the lyrics!).  
They may also have completely broken my heart. The full soundtrack can be found here:

[An Unfinished Life Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/user/elmjuniper/playlist/5zzWyQLwpzZNpB05wwINAa?si=i1yyqtoYQ1y9m6ZZdEHI3w)

* * *

**Athens, Hekatombaion 426 BC**

Thunder rumbled through the dark night, bright flashes of lightning whipping across the skies. Perikles was sound asleep, riddled with a fever that had been brought to Athens with one of the shipments. Aspasia paced the room. None of the cures they tried had improved his health and his state worsened by the day. If things continued the way they were, the general would have to cancel his next big debate at the pnyx.

Adding to her troubles were the cultists. She had given Kleon direct orders to bring Deimos to her so she could talk to him. But the arrogant general insisted anything that needed to be said to Deimos could be relayed through him. She wrung her hands together. Every time Kleon was there, watching, eagle-eyed, listening to every word. She had tried to talk sense into Deimos but Kleon had the young man in an iron grip. Nothing she said got through to the sage. And now Kleon refused to let even the Ghost speak to him alone.

The man was a weasel. A snake. Biding his time until he could push her out. But she wouldn’t let him and it infuriated him. To know a woman held the power he wanted. A woman he had to bow to. In the name of Kosmos. Perhaps she could go in as herself, as Aspasia offer him something in return for a moment with Deimos. The man wanted power. She glanced over at the dying general in the bed. Her master. If it was power Kleon wanted, she could offer it to him. In return for a moment alone with the alpha.

She was a hetaera, and an omega, she could work that angel in her favour. It would make sense for an omega to search out an alpha during her heat. She was no demigoddess, but she was one of the most important faces in Athens’ politics. If Kleon thought she went to Deimos for the purpose of mating the general might just let her spend enough time alone with Deimos to convince him to leave the cult and find his sister.

Rapt knocking on the door startled her to a stop in her pacing. “Yes?”

“Aspasia?” Ianthe poked her head through the door. “It’s Phoibe.”

“No,” she gasped taking a step towards the door, “not the fever.” She could not lose another child. She would not be able to bear it.

“No, I’m sorry I worried you, it’s something a lot less deadly.” Ianthe smiled.

“Oh?”

“Our littlest one is scared of the thunder and nothing I or Ophelos say helps. I think she needs…”

“Can you stay and keep an eye on our Master?” She asked with a glance at Perikles. Nodding Ianthe slipped into the room and sat down on the floor next to the bed. Diligent as always. Aspasia smiled and headed down the stairs towards the servants quarters.

Ianthe and Ophelos were good people. What would become of them once the great Athenian general was dead? Perhaps she could find somewhere new for them to work. If she took another place as someone’s consort then perhaps she could bring them with her. She shook her head, she would have to think of that later.

The room was small with a simple bed, a modest dressing table at the far end, and drawers for the little girl's clothes. Even though she completely disregarded any of the peploi Aspasia had bought her. She shook her head in amusement. _Just_ like Kassandra.

“Phoibe?” She said trying to keep the amusement from her voice as she looked down on the small bundle of covers on the bed. At the sound of her voice, the lump underneath all the blankets moved until Phoibe’s face peeked out. Wide-eyed, the corner of her mouth pulled downwards.

“Oh, koukla mou,” Aspasia sat down on the bed and pulled Phoibe into her arms. “There is nothing to be scared of. It is just Selene in her chariot racing across the sky.”

Tiny arms wrapped themselves around her waist and she stroked the dark, tousled hair as Phoibe pressed her face against Aspasia’s stomach. Little Phoibe who had cried so much Chrysanthe had sought out the rugged young woman living in a tent in the forest by Kausos. Oh, how she had disliked the alpha. She was impractical, impulsive and bull-headed. Hadn’t even planned their escape from the Cyclops, and then there was the bear. Aspasia shook her head. Another fine example of Kassandra simply throwing herself headfirst into dire situations. And yet something about the alpha had Chrysanthe mesmerised from the start.

She looked down at Phoibe. She would be barely a year older than their child. _Their_ child. The thought made her heart twinge. If her life had been different, if it had been hers then perhaps it would be their daughter trembling in her arms, scared of the thunder outside. Their child had been a girl. Chrysanthe had always been sure of it. It was rare for Aspasia to allow herself to think of a different life. One she had dreamed up as she lay in Kassandra’s arms. But with Phoibe in her arms Aspasia—Chrysanthe—could not help but remember it.   

It had of course been foolish and she had paid the price for daring to dream. Not that she hadn’t deserved it. She had been selfish wanting something, reaching for it, even though it could never be hers. She’d known about the Athenian general who had bought her chastity, and still, she broke the rules. With Kassandra. And she would do it again in a heartbeat. Knowing it was Kassandra and no one else she had given herself to. That the alpha would always have that small part of her. Be the first. The only.  

Thaddeus had made it clear when they found out, that the young alpha’s head would be served on a plate to Kreios if Chrysanthe didn’t leave to have the child growing inside her taken care of. No one, _no one_ , could know of Chrysanthe’s indiscretion. The drachmae paid for her would help strengthen the cult’s hold of all of Hellas. And for all the things Chrysanthe was willing to lose, Kassandra wasn’t one of them.

She could still remember Thaddeus’s musky smell as he pressed her up against the wall, his big, strong fingers wrapped around her throat. Hard enough to rob her of her breath, but not enough to bruise the valuable hetaera.

“You so much as sniff in the alpha’s direction again and I’ll make sure she never sees another sunrise. Do I make myself clear?”

She nodded through the tears, her mouth gasping desperately for air. He released her, and she dropped to the floor gulping for air her vision blurring before her.

“May I at least say goodbye?” She rasped out.

“No.” He towered over her.

“If I don’t, she’ll look for me. She won’t stop until she finds me.” She tried to argue.

Thaddeus paused. “Very well, but if she suspects anything…”

“She won’t.” Chrysanthe was quick to assure him.

“Then you better make it quick. You’re leaving tonight.”

“Tonight?” She asked unable to keep the despair from her voice.

“Is there a problem?” Thaddeus hissed.

It was the night she would present the bow to Kassandra. The one she had the weapon’s merchant craft for the young alpha. But it wouldn’t be finished until much later. And by then Chrysanthe would already be on a boat on her way to Korinthia. And if she went to find Kassandra now, the alpha would be able to smell the despair in her. Kassandra would know something was wrong and she wouldn’t let Chrysanthe go. And Thaddeus would have none of it.

“No,” she whispered in defeat. “I’ll go at once.”

“Aspasia?” Phoibe looked up at her and the omega dragged herself from the dark memory.

“Naí?”

“Do you think Kassandra will come back?”

She smiled stroking Phoibe’s round cheek. “Yes. She will always be back for _you_. Until then, why don’t I tell you about when Selene raced her brother Helios?”

**Ω**

Kassandra sat staring at the shrine for the longest of times. Watched the people come and go until the sun started to set somewhere behind her. Could it be true? Had Chrysanthe been pregnant? Perhaps Kassandra read too much into what Agape had said? She shook her head. Chryssa had been in heat that night when instead of reminding Kassandra to pull out had kept her firmly in place. Kassandra knew what that meant. The likelihood of Chryssa becoming pregnant was higher than usual during a heat. Foolishly the alpha had thought they were going to spend the rest of their lives together. Raise a family. And so that night she had given the omega her everything.

 _When things happened_. Kassandra looked at the shrine. _This_ was what Agape had meant. She imagined Chrysanthe alone, with child, standing by the altar knowing what she would have to do. Kassandra had done that to Chryssa. It was her fault for not being more responsible. She had loved Chryssa. She’d been selfish to want more. She knew Chryssa was leaving, and still, she had risked it all, lost herself in their love. In the cruel fantasy that they would stay together. But instead, the omega had been forced to travel Korinthia to end the life growing inside her. Their child. Hers and Chryssa’s.

Kassandra didn’t have to ask Chrysanthe about it. She could feel it in her very bones. The unborn child had been theirs. She felt a stab in her chest, one so unbearable she had to lean forward and breathe heavily. Her fingers dug into the marble slab, the tensing of every muscle helping her focus her thoughts. Curb the turmoil inside.

Lost in her grief she didn’t notice someone sit down next to her. Not until they put their hand on her back. Tenderly giving it a small rub, a gentle reminder to breathe. It was a small gesture but in the moment provided the alpha with the anchor she needed.

“There, there child.” It was the old woman, the one caring for the altar. “Just breathe.”

“I can’t.” She choked on her breath. On the pain that bubbled up, and just like poison, it spread through her veins until every muscle, every part of her burned with acid heat.

“Yes, you can, child. Slow breaths. Steady and easy.” The woman instructed her, her hand rubbing at her back until the alpha’s breathing came slower. They sat like that for a long time, Kassandra breathing shakily, the woman stroking her back.

“How recently?”

Kassandra exhaled heavily. “I don’t know. I don’t if I was...if she was…” Her shoulders slumped forward and she clasped her hands together.

“Tell me a little about your omega.” There was kindness in the woman’s voice. Not pity, but a sense of understanding.

“Her name was Chrysanthe, she was twenty-two when she came here almost nine years ago.” She tried to think of something else that would set her apart from all the other people that had ever visited Korinthia. “She had blonde curly hair, and...she was beautiful. She _is_ beautiful…”

The grey-haired woman nodded and sighed. “I remember her.”

“You do?” Kassandra turned to look at her not even bothering to hide her surprise. When it came to Chrysanthe there was very little Kassandra could hide.

“Yes, she was so different. With her blonde hair and pale skin. It is not something you often see in Greece. We spend too much time in the sun here.” She smiled.

The alpha smiled back. “I can’t believe you still remember her.”

“She is hard to forget. Those eyes, I will never forget the sadness in them whenever she visited.”

“Did she come here often?”

“Almost every other day. She would sit where you’re sitting right now. Just looking at the shrine. Entire days sometimes. Until one day she did not return.” The woman let out a breath. “I heard some general took her away from here.”

“Perikles.” The beta whose scent was all over Aspasia. Like a stench that had Kassandra’s alpha pacing back and forth, like a predator waiting to attack.

“Aspasia?” The old woman nodded slowly. “So, she is still alive. I always wondered what happened to her.”

Kassandra sighed heavily allowing herself a weary growl. “I made a mess of things the last time we spoke.”

The grey-haired woman chuckled. “You are an alpha after all.”

Kassandra snorted. This beta was both kind and rudely honest. She studied the tanned face. The beta had distinct broad cheeks, startling blue, kind eyes, and a warm smile. “May I ask your name?”

“It’s Selene.”

“Well, it is nice to meet you, Selene. I am Kassandra.”

“Yes, I can see you’re her.”

She leaned away from the beta with a grin. “So, you’ve heard of me? Which legendary feat? Taking down the Monger or sinking Athenian ships?”

Selene chortled and her hand—still resting on Kassandra’s arm—gave a light squeeze. “The feat of creating life.”

**Ω**

It had been a stupid fight. About something pointless and now Chrysanthe could barely remember why they had fought at all. All she knew was that she'd said terribly mean things to Kassandra.

She rubbed her head. Her temper was getting the worst of her lately and she couldn't understand why. Some days it seemed to boil over and Kassandra would have to take the brunt of it.

Chrysanthe had mentioned the end of the summer and the alpha had said whatever may come they'd face it together. It was so positive, so typically Kassandra. It was one of the things she loved about the alpha. The alpha that would never be hers. Could never be hers.

The thought, so impossible to her, caught Chrysanthe off guard. Would that mean the alpha would find someone else? _Love_ someone else? And just like that, the fire within her ignited. She was to go to Korinthia to be sold like some merchant’s item, to be used by the cult, while Kassandra would go off to find someone new. Someone she loved.

“Don't be naïve, the end of the summer will be here and I will leave. Why can't you just accept that?” She'd snapped.

“Chryssa—”

“No. You can go on with your happy life and forget about us. Forget all about me, but don't come here and give me some false hope that I won't have to leave!”

“Kardia mou,” Kassandra put her hands on Chrysanthe's hips and pulled her closer.

Chrysanthe hugged herself, angry at the alpha. This was all the alpha’s fault. What would she have cared of any of this before she met Kassandra?

“Ela,” the alpha murmured and nuzzled her neck. A sign of affection. Submission.

Chrysanthe sighed and leaned her cheek against the side of Kassandra’s face. And when the alpha pulled her even closer, wrapped her strong arms around her she dug her fingers through Kassandra’s hair. If she held the younger woman close, perhaps she’d etch her presence into Kassandra, create a bond so strong the alpha would somehow always be with her. Always be able to find her.

“I’m sorry, Fengári mou,” she whispered. Why was she being so mean to Kassandra lately?

“It’s okay.” Kassandra gave her a gentle squeeze, but Chrysanthe could hear her swallow thickly. The way she always did when she was feeling things. Things she didn’t know how to put words to. Like their first night together. When the alpha had shot up from her chair with some excuse of having an early morning the next day.  

“I’m sorry, I was cruel to say such things…”

“You are not the only one who will be heartbroken at the end of the summer, Chrysanthe.”

“You are poor but you are free.” She stroked the alpha’s face. “Cherish that, even if I’m not here with you.”

Kassandra let go of her with a scoff. She hated talking about the end of the summer. Chrysanthe knew this and still, she had brought it up. To make herself feel better. But all she had accomplished was making both of them feel the weight of the future.

The alpha turned away from Chrysanthe towards her bow and spear on the small table. It was a shoddy bow that needed oiling almost every night or it would splinter in the alpha’s hands at her mere touch. “I have to go hunt some malákes goat’s bladders and I’m already late.”

Chrysanthe sighed. “I’m sorry…”

“Sure.” Kassandra grabbed her bow and spear then without another word stalked down the dirt path from their house.

Ikaros, still perched on the fence next to Chrysanthe, turned his head towards her beady eyes blinking at her.

“What?” She pursed her lips at him and he tilted his head. “I _know_. But what do I do? I already hurt her, I don’t know how to make it better.”

The eagle, far too clever for a regular bird, flapped his wings, eyes locked with hers. Then he lifted off the fence and soared into the air with a shrill squawk. She expected him to follow Kassandra, like he always did. There were only a handful of times Ikaros hadn’t been there, his watchful eyes following the young alpha. And almost all of those times were when Kassandra and Chrysanthe found themselves entangled with each other, clothes dropping to the floor. His eyes would snap from side to side and he’d throw himself indignantly into the air and take off with a displeased caw.

She followed him with her gaze where he circled above her. “Ikaros?”

He landed softly on a rock further down their road, eyes locked at her. What was wrong with him? She frowned and walked up towards him when he flew off again. She blinked and lifted her face towards the sky where he circled, still not following Kassandra. Did he want her to...follow him?

“Alright, I will play your game, bird,” she muttered and started down the road. She followed him until they hit a fork in the road. There he veered to their right taking her further up the hills, into the thickening forest until she found where he was leading her. To a small clearing littered with...she frowned. Goats?

“Ade,” she tutted at the bird, “what am I supposed to do with this?”

A sharp squawk cut through the air, his claws flashed and with a movement so swift Chrysanthe barely had time to catch it Ikaros had brought one of the goats to its demise. A dead goat. An offering to the gods?

Ikaros hopped from the goat's head to its stomach and stretched his wings, his chest puffing slightly. He was clearly very pleased with himself.

She sighed walking up towards the dead goat. “Yes, you're a very clever boy.” She curled a finger and rubbed it at his neck just behind the curve of his head exactly where he liked it. He let out a series of whistles moving closer to her. “So, a goat. For a sacrifice?”

Ikaros shook his body his small head twitching, eyes looking at her as if to say, “try again.”

There was only one person who Chrysanthe knew needed goats for anything other than a sacrifice. “Kassandra. This is my peace offering to her?”

This time Ikaros gave another whistling sound then before she could ask anything else, he took off sailing through the sky to find Kassandra.

Rubbing her forehead she huffed out a breath of air. All she had to do now was to get the goat back to the house. She leaned over and grabbed its leg giving a tug. The very _heavy_ dead goat.

It took her longer than she cared to admit getting the goat back to their house and there had been a few moments she'd wanted to just leave the stupid goat and stomp back to the house. But she was Chrysanthe, and she was nothing if not stubborn. She was going to apologise in the best way she could. Make it up to her alpha.

It had seemed like a good idea when Ikaros presented it to her. But where she stood, legs and arms covered in goat’s blood, Chrysanthe was willing to admit that she might have bitten off more than she could chew.

She’d watched Kassandra clean and skin the goats more times than she could count. The alpha made it look easy. A cut here, and a cut there, and then things fell out and Kassandra would put the different contents in separate neatly wrapped up parchment packages.

Chrysanthe whined in frustration. The knife was blunt, the goat’s hide much thicker than she expected and cutting through muscle, fat, and sinew was not as easy as Kassandra made it look. And in her frenzy to get the most important part for the alpha, Chrysanthe had stepped on something particularly slimy, shrieked and accidentally sliced the precious gallbladder open. It was nothing but her dignity that kept her from throwing herself to the ground with a sob.

Footsteps thudded up their path and halted at the sight of her. “Chryssa?”

She lifted her face to see Kassandra tilt her head at the scene in front of her. Two pelts hung over her shoulder, pristine and clean. “What is this?”

How was she going to tell the alpha she couldn’t even do something as simple as skin a goat? “A goat,” she said trying to keep her voice from trembling. She was tired, _filthy_ and still had nothing to offer Kassandra. And though she had herself for once she’d hoped to have something real. Something useful.

“I can see that.” Amusement danced in the alpha’s eyes. “But why are you bent over it covered in guts and blood?” Kassandra stepped closer and picked a piece of intestines hanging from the omega’s blonde locks.

She had guts, _goat guts_ hanging from her hair. The bubble burst and with it her resolve to not cry. “I wanted to apologise.” The knife clattered to the ground, and she pointed at the stupid goat. “And I thought helping you get a goat’s bladder was…”

Kassandra laughed and closed the distance between them. The sparkling, throaty laughter Chrysanthe loved. “Well, I must say, this is probably the worst apology I’ve ever had.”

Chrysanthe hung her head with a pitiful whine when the alpha’s hands came up to cup her face. “But it is also the only one I ever got.” She kissed Chrysanthe’s cheek.

“That just makes it worse,” Chrysanthe muttered but grabbed the alpha’s exomie pulling her closer.

“Chryssa!” Kassandra let go of her with a disapproving glare. “Your hands! You got my exomie all filthy now, and I already bathed once before going to Samis.”

“Are you complaining about me touching you?” Feeling a little better Chrysanthe quirked an eyebrow at the alpha.

“I’m complaining at you getting me sticky with—”

“Never complained before.” Her voice dipped into a low purr and then when Kassandra’s mind was on something else entirely Chrysanthe dragged her hand across the alpha’s cheek. It drew a yelp from the alpha, half amused, half enraged.

“That’s _it!_ ” Kassandra snatched for her, but Chrysanthe was still faster than the alpha, dodging the strong arms with a shriek of her own. It wasn’t until they reached the beach below their house that Kassandra finally caught up with her. Wrapping her arms around Chrysanthe the alpha lifted her up like she weighed no more than a feather and walked them into the cool ocean.

Laughing, and out of breath she clung to her alpha, wrapped her legs around Kassandra’s waist. They had done this a million times before. Kassandra would dunk them both under the water and when they came up for air Chrysanthe would find the alpha’s lips with her own. Chapped from spending the day in the sun, tasting of saltwater and ocean. The alpha would walk them to the tiny island a stone's throw from the beach. There they’d find their spot on the rocks and Kassandra would lower her to the ground, peel off her clothes, her lips devout in their worship of Chrysanthe’s body.

Kassandra always made her feel special, feel loved. The way the alpha touched her, the way she looked at her, kissed her. She felt herself shudder where she moved on top of the alpha, Kassandra’s breathing growing heavy, coming in small bursts. She was beautiful like this. On her back, fingers digging into Chrysanthe’s hips guiding her movements.

“I love you,” she panted dropping forward. Kassandra’s lips brushed against her neck and Chrysanthe shuddered. One arm snaked around the omega’s hips pulling her flush against Kassandra, the other one grabbing a fistful of hair to expose Chrysanthe’s neck further.

She gasped, Kassandra’s teeth grazing against the exposed skin. Against the spot. Where an alpha left its mark. But only if allowed. And Kassandra wasn’t allowed. She knew this. Chrysanthe knew this. And yet her hands guided the alpha’s mouth closer until her teeth meet resistance until the skin bent underneath their sharpness. Until it split and drew blood.

**Ω**

Kassandra scratched her neck. There was a time when she had been invisible. No one would have singled her out in a crowd. Now it seemed she couldn’t go anywhere without being noticed. But Selene had recognised her because Chrysanthe had told the beta about Kassandra. It meant the omega trusted Selene.

“So what happened between the two of you?” Selene asked moving one leg over the other in a way much similar to Agape. Perhaps there was a story there?

“We challenged our fates.” She didn’t know how else to explain it. The thing that had transpired between her and Chryssa. Sometimes the summer they had spent together felt so far away, untouchable like reaching for the fraying remnants of a dream.

“And?”

“And we lost.” She shook her head. They had been so young and stupid. So in love that nothing else mattered. Only then and there.

“You still speak very fondly of her,” Selene said keen eyes watching Kassandra who sighed.

“Chryssa was special to me…” The omega had been everything to her. But what first love wouldn’t be? Kassandra told herself.

“What made this one so special?”

“I don't know…” Kassandra lifted her gaze towards the shrine and sighed. She did know why. She had just spent too many years hiding from it. “Chryssa made me believe.”

“Many people have that quality.”

She shook her head. “No. She made me believe in myself. That I belonged with someone,” she paused, “that I belonged with _her_.”

Selene nodded with a quiet hum. “But then she came here.”

“Then she came here,” Kassandra echoed. She could tell by the silence that Selene was watching her, studying her.

Selene inhaled, a curious expression crossing her face. “You are an alpha without your mate. I’ve seen this before.”

“I haven’t found a new mate,” Kassandra corrected the beta who tilted her head, eyes curious, a conspicuous smile tugging at her mouth.

“Have you never wondered why?”

Kassandra shook her head. There was no point in wondering. Too many years she had convinced herself it had not mattered, that they had not mattered. That Chryssa was just someone she had cared for when she was still young and didn’t know better. She believed it. Completely. And when she met someone new, she told herself they weren’t the right fit. Or that she had time for neither love nor relationships of any kind. The only one she ever made time for was Phoibe, the girl was like a little sister to her, and that was enough for Kassandra. Until Athens. Until Aspasia.

Kassandra had known, from the minute she laid eyes on the omega again: Chrysanthe had been the love of her life. And perhaps she always would be.

**Ω**

Aspasia woke up from the dream. She frowned. No, part of the memory of her and Kassandra on the beach. Ever since Kassandra had left, all the memories Aspasia had locked away for so long had seeped back into her consciousness. Like the water breaking through the growing cracks in a dam.

Someone stirred in her arms and she looked down to see Phoibe tucked up next to her. They must have fallen asleep sometime after the thunderstorm had passed. The little girl lay with her face pressed close to Aspasia, knees pulled up towards her chest resting against the omega’s stomach. Like a shrimp, sleeping peacefully for once. Aspasia had watched Phoibe when she first took her in. The young girl would toss and turn in her sleep until the omega sat down next to her to stroke her head, and then when Aspasia hummed the tune Kassandra had taught her Phoibe would fall into a peaceful sleep.

She wrapped her arm protectively around Phoibe and kissed the top of her head. Phoibe was safe. Even if Kassandra hated Aspasia for what she had done, it would be a lie to say she’d do it differently if given the chance again. Phoibe was alive, her innocence untouched, Aspasia could feel no remorse for that.

“Aspasia?” Perikles’ familiar voice came from the doorway. “I woke up to find Ianthe watching over me and not my consort. What are you doing in here?”

“Phoibe was scared and needed comforting.” She tried to keep the annoyance from her tone. She _never_ neglected her duties as Perikles’s consort but this was Phoibe, and whether it be her or Ianthe sitting by their master’s side as he slept made no difference.

“She is _not_ your child.”

She sat up in the bed careful to not wake Phoibe. “I _know_ that but she’s just a child.”

He looked from her to Phoibe and let out a brusk sigh, his eyes growing hard. “Is this the Spartan-Milesian mutt then?”

Fury ignited in her chest and she shot up from the bed, lips pulled back in a snarl. “I’m sorry?!” His beta cowered from the fire in her eyes. “Out.” She pointed towards the door.

He hesitated, if only for a heartbeat before he did as he was told. She followed him outside to the andron where he held all his precious symposia.

“Aspasia—”

“Why would you say that?” She put her hands on her hips glaring daggers at him.

“Because you act like an omega with her child.”

“I _am_ an omega with a child.”

“Yes,” Perikles nodded, grey locks swaying lightly with the motion. “But the way you’ve been acting lately...I suspected she might be yours and the Eagle Bearer’s.”

She felt her breath hitch in her throat, her gaze darting back and forth across his face trying to read his expression. How could Perikles know about them? No one knew about them. Kassandra and their child was Aspasia’s best-kept secret. Only Agape knew. And though not sisters by blood, Agape would die before telling anyone.

“Kassandra and I…”

“Kassandra,” Perikles echoed softly with a nod. “You speak the misthios name with such tender familiarity.”

“No, I—” she started but fell silent at the weary expression crossing his face. He wasn’t angry.

“Your scents. She is an alpha and yet her scent links with yours in ways I did not understand at first.” He turned and walked towards one of the small windows that opened into the lush garden. “Yours changes around her. To something I’ve never felt before. As if you’re a different person entirely around her. At first, I thought it was merely because she is an alpha, that perhaps there was an attraction there. But then I realised, that she was _the_ alpha.”

“The alpha?” she asked somehow managing to keep her voice steady.

He half-turned around and looked at her face then dropped his gaze towards her feet. “I love you, Aspasia. You are the light of my life even if many times I’ve failed to tell you so,” he spoke softly. “I’ve known from the moment we met that you were untouchable. That though you pledged yourself to be my consort, you would never really be mine.”

“Perikles…” she whispered uncertain how to tread this new territory. Perikles had never considered her needs, desires or dreams. At times she’d wondered if he even knew who Aspasia was. If he cared beyond what she could give him between the sheets. Beyond being the trophy he placed in the middle of the symposium. For all men to watch but never touch. Letting them know he was superior to them in everything. In power. In rhetoric. In philosophy and certainly with his women. She had never seen him like this. Full of...emotion. Except for at the hearing when Hermippus tried to have her ostracised. But even then she had been convinced his crying was merely a reflection of the status he would lose.  

“I’ve felt as if by some miracle by the gods I have been graced with your presence. Your body. But I’ve always known your heart will always belong to the alpha who marked you.”

“No.” She shook her head but her hand instinctively flew to her neck. Her fingers brushed at the skin. Nothing. “Kassandra never...I knew what my duty was and I would not let her. I would _remember_.”

The beta smiled. A sombre smile. The smile of a defeated man. “A bite is not the only way to mark. Years ago Herodotus told me about a rare couple he met. It seems for some alpha-omega couples the bond is so strong it transcends even the laws of nature. If both alpha and their mate wants to bond, in that moment, the mark can be many things. A scratch, something as simple as a kiss or…” He paused, “a pregnancy.”

She shook her head in protest and still, she realised he was right. Kassandra had marked her that night. The night she had taken Kassandra to bed during her heat. But Perikles wasn’t supposed to know. About any of that. And certainly not about the child. Not even Kassandra knew. “How? Who told you?”

“You did. Even before we had Xanthippus, you reacted to children like an omega who had once had their own.”

She averted her gaze. Normal humans would not have noticed the difference, but Perikles was a beta. This was something she should have thought about, but lately, it seemed that despite all her careful planning there was always something that slipped her mind.

“I will take my punishment, but do not hurt Kassandra.” She bowed her head gracefully. Her existence had revolved around keeping Kassandra safe from the cult. And if Perikles posed a threat after figuring out the truth, Aspasia would protect her from him as well.

He shook his head. “You have no obligation to me anymore. I know our traditions. Our laws. Your alpha has returned and I step down gracefully. While I still can.”

“Perikles…”

“It has been an honour to have had you by my side. To been given the chance to love you.” Pale grey eyes blinked at her and he turned away quickly.

He wasn’t a bad man. He was simply a man who loved her in his own way. She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned her cheek against his back. Kassandra hated her. And she was never coming back to her again. Aspasia would spend her life mourning the loss of her alpha. Perikles would spend his loving a marked omega for as long as he had left. What lonely lives they would lead on their own. Perhaps if she stayed they could at least be lonely together.

“I’m not leaving you, Perikles.”

“Aspasia…”

Someone cleared their throat, politely letting them know they weren’t alone anymore.

“Ophelos?” Perikles pretended to wipe weariness from his eyes.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Master, but Kleon is here.”

“Kleon?” Aspasia frowned and let go of Perikles. What was Kleon doing at the estate? She had not sent for him and it was still too early in the morning to ask for a meeting with Perikles.

“What is he doing here?” Perikles’s forehead wrinkled.

Ophelos’ eyes slid over to Aspasia before he bowed his head. “He is here for Aspasia.”

**Ω**

“A goat?” Barnabas had questioned when Kassandra brought the goat aboard the Adrestia. “Which god have you angered?”

“It’s a peace offering.” She’d explained to the old man. She had spent a few moments longer with Selene sitting quietly, her thoughts slowly becoming clearer the longer Kassandra stared at the shrine. It was time to return to Athens. To Aspasia. Wherever life took them they either needed to go there together or part once and for all.

She’d ordered the crew to steer towards Port Piraeus and get them there as fast as they could. Well-rested and eager to be back on the sea the women rowed with a speed that would impress Hermes himself. They reached Athens two nights later and the speed they’d been travelling at drew to an instant breathless stop.

The grand city with its akropolis lay cloaked in a thick, grey mist, its thickness hiding the moon behind it. Pillars of smoke billowed towards the sky and a putrid stench of death and burned flesh travelled across the waters towards the Adrestia.

“By the gods…” Barnabas whispered. “What happened here?”

“Phoibe!” Kassandra felt her stomach tighten. She’d seen this before. Just before leaving Kephallonia. “It’s the Blood Fever.”

She ordered the Adrestia to wait outside in the bay. The last thing she wanted was any of her crew infected by the deadly disease. Pulling the deep-red shroud over her head to cover her nose and mouth she bolted through the streets towards Perikles’s estate. She needed to get Phoibe out of Athens.

The streets and alleyways were littered with bodies. Some still warm, others half-decayed. Others set on fire in a last desperate attempt to keep the Blood Fever from spreading. She gagged, the stench so strong it made her eyes water as she hurried through the streets. Moans and crying carried through the night from sick and dying people some, she noted, from wounds rather than the disease.

She glanced up towards the elevated parts of the city. Buildings were on fire there, and shouts and the distinct sound of weapons clashing drifted from the buildings. Whatever was happening in Athens was bad. The sooner she made it to Perikles’s estate the better. She would take Phoibe with her. And Aspasia. Even Perikles if she had to. Heaving herself across a tall wall she spotted the well-guarded villa with its distinct red walls. Phoibe was in there.

A large crowd stood shouting outside the guarded gates but she ignored them scrambling across another wall, vaulting across it before landing hard on the ground. The guards, too busy keeping the growing crowd at bay, didn’t notice her as she slipped inside the house.

“Eagle Bearer!” Ianthe, the servant who had given Alkibiades his oil and who Kassandra had another vague memory of, ran up towards her.

“Where is Phoibe?”

“She’s not here, Aspasia was—” Ianthe’s gaze was wild her entire appearance frazzled as she threw her arms out in the air.

“Where is Aspasia?” Kassandra snarled. That godforsaken woman had one job, _one_ job only, and that was to keep Phoibe safe. And now Kassandra was told Phoibe wasn’t in the house. With the Blood Fever raging on _and_ the cult gaining more and more ground in Athens.

“She is _gone._ ” Ianthe breathed.

“Gone? Where to?”

“I don’t know. Kleon came, he…” The servant’s voice broke, tears streaming down her face. “They killed Ophelos, cut him down and then the other man came.”

Kassandra felt dread tug at the hairs on the back of her neck. “What man?”

“The one calling himself a demigod. He killed Perikles.” Ianthe shook her head and hid her face in her hands.

Grabbing her gently, but firmly across the shoulders, Kassandra spoke in a soft voice. “I need you to tell me everything you know.”

“Deimos. The demigod Deimos. He took Aspasia and Phoibe.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...what did you think?  
> Please leave a comment it makes me happy to hear your thoughts.


	7. The Dungeons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Sorry this took so long. I got hit by a really bad chest infection.  
> But, you know, I gotta make you miss me a bit as well! ;)
> 
> But massive thanks for all those kudos and comments. Shit, I really never saw this love for this fic coming.  
> I know I keep saying it but I'm just so grateful for all the love and support its getting. Thank you!

If you want to check out the  [An Unfinished Life Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/user/elmjuniper/playlist/5zzWyQLwpzZNpB05wwINAa?si=zjnFWFYBRtisuBZR3yTVug)

* * *

 **Athens, Hekatombaion 426 BC**  

The dungeons were just as dark and frightening as she’d always imagined them. There were no windows to let any light in, it was a dungeon, after all, she reminded herself, and everything was damp. _Nothing_ dried. The walls and floors reeked of stale air and mould and not even the wooden beam she sat chained to had been spared. The dark, thick wood was rotten in places and the chain eye that secured her chain had been moved more times than she could count.

She tugged at the chain with a grunt but it only resulted in her arms aching from the effort. She put her feet against the beam, maybe the extra strength would help her loosen the chain. She squeezed her eyes shut and pulled. Hard. With every ounce of strength she could muster, until her legs and arms burned with tiredness and the grunt from her throat grew into a frustrated yell. The chain eye wouldn’t budge and if she pulled any harder she was sure her arm would rip off.

She released the chain with a small whine. She was too weak and small to make any difference. Scanning the cell she looked for something to give her the upper hand, something to use as a weapon or help them escape, _anything._

Kassandra had taught her that everything was allowed if someone ever tried to take her again as the Cyclops’ minions had on Kephallonia. She had tried to wring herself out of the soldiers’ hard grip when they dragged them away from the villa. And when that didn’t work she’d kicked and bit and hissed at the soldiers like an angry mountain lynx. It had done very little to hinder Kleon’s men from dragging them off to the dungeons.

The sound of footsteps drew her attention away from the soldier. The guards. They were back dragging a woman between them. Keys rustled as one of the soldiers unlocked the door then the woman was shoved roughly through the small opening. She crumbled to the floor with a broken moan, her soaked chiton dirtied and torn with dark-red patches staining it in places. Water dripped from her long dark tresses and when one of the soldiers stepped over her to chain her to the wall she barely looked up to protest.

“Aspasia!” She scrambled across the floor and sunk to her knees next to the woman. Kleon had ordered Aspasia be brought to him for talking, but the way the guard had said it left Phoibe thinking it was a really bad sort of talking. That first time Aspasia didn’t return for a really long time and each time after that Aspasia came back looking worse than the last time.

“It’s alright, Phoibe,” Aspasia whispered and lifted her head to smile at her. “I’m alright.” Her eye was swollen red dots flaring underneath the skin, and her lip had been cracked, blood dripping from it.

It was _not_ alright! _Aspasia_ was not alright and if Phoibe didn’t find a way to get them out they would die in there. Aspasia would die in there and Phoibe liked Aspasia, she didn’t want her to die and leave Phoibe alone. Just like her parents had. Of course, there was Kassandra, but Kassandra always left. Always.

Phoibe felt her resolve falter. She wanted to cry and curl up in Aspasia's arms just like she had two nights before, but then Aspasia tried to drag herself into a sitting position only to grab at her side with a pained whimper. _No._ She put her arm under Aspasia's helping the noblewoman sit up, there was no time to cry. Phoibe had to get them out. One way or another.

**Ω**

_A cool summer breeze tugs at Kassandra’s unruly hair, wisps of it reaching for the sky before falling back down into the alpha’s face. Chrysanthe brushes it from her face and curls her fingers around Kassandra’s neck kissing the alpha softly._

_They lie naked on the roof underneath the red canopy they suspended earlier before Chrysanthe’s heat got the better of her. She’s supposed to stay away from the alpha, stay in her room and care for herself. She isn’t even supposed to be in heat, but Sinai herb was not an easy plant to get on Kephallonia and so she ran out of the herb helping her suppress her heats. She had calculated carefully though, she would not go into her heat before leaving Kephallonia._

_She strokes the tanned, freckled cheeks, kisses the soft lips. She shouldn’t be in heat. Something or rather_ someone _must have triggered it. At first, she didn't recognise the signs, having gone without her heat for the majority of her life. She thought the weather on Kephallonia was simply unusually humid and unbearably hot._

_It wasn't until her instincts told her to mate with her alpha, had her longing for forbidden things like children and family, that she realised she was in heat. And then came the growing need to be with her alpha, to feel Kassandra's touch, feel her near her, in her, rutting her._

_She shudders as Kassandra's hand travels up the length of her thigh, across her hip where her fingers curl before pulling Chrysanthe closer._

_She yields and presses herself against the alpha, her heat making her body crave Kassandra’s touch even more than usual. It's worse when Kassandra isn't near when the alpha can't help Chrysanthe with her needs, even though both of them know the risks. It’s part instinct, part hopeless desire for a different life. She wants it all with Kassandra. The bond, children, a life. Freedom._

_The memory of Kassandra kissing her sweetly, moving tenderly in and out of her, careful not to cause the omega any discomfort after the previous rough rutting sends a warm tingle through her and she rubs herself against Kassandra._

_“Kardia mou,” the alpha whispers  her voice husky with desire, “I adore you…but if I don't get a break I think it might fall off.”_

_Chrysanthe laughs and lets go of Kassandra's beautiful face. Poor Kassandra was not lacking stamina, but even an alpha couldn't keep up with an omega in heat. “Well, we certainly can’t have that.”_

_“Not if you want me to take care of you,” Kassandra murmurs and pulls her closer. Chrysanthe closes her eyes and listens to the sound of the summer breeze brushing through the tree crowns. Listens to the distant sound of waves lapping at the shore, a dog barking somewhere, and the alpha's slow, heavy breathing. Kassandra’s entire alpha wraps itself protectively around her. She’s safe. Warm. Loved. She smiles, snuggles closer and falls into a peaceful sleep._

The fist that was tangled in her hair tugged hard ripping Aspasia from her reverie. The bright light from the torches burned her eyes as she gasped for air, spat and spluttered. Her mind—hazy and disoriented—protested, she wanted to go back. Back to the roof. Back to Kassandra.

“Why did The Ghost ask you to go to Deimos?” The Athenian general asked from somewhere behind her back. It was a voice she knew all too well. One that sent her skin crawling. Kleon.

“She...didn't,” she managed to wheeze out, saliva and water dripping from her lips into the basin of water as she heaved greedily for air. Dark dots swam before her eyes her desperate gasping sending a wave of nausea washing over her. She gagged, water spilling from her mouth, the heaving sending ripples of pain through her injured ribs. She surprised herself by having wits enough to be appalled at the thought of being forced into the same water again.

“Oh, Aspasia…” Kleon chuckled, the sneer she can't see bleeding into his voice. “You were always a good whore, but never a good liar. _I_ should know. But then again...I was the one who broke you in.”

A ragged laugh rasped across her lips. “You have done many unforgivable things to me, but ‘break me in’ was _never_ one of them.” She taunted him.

Sandals slapped against the cold dungeon as he rounded the basin to face her. “You forget who paid for your chastity, whore.” Men. Always thinking they could reduce her to nothing with a simple, meaningless word.

“You may have paid for it, but you certainly didn’t get it.” She locked eyes with him. “And you best pray the alpha who did never finds out what you’ve done or she will make you suffer.”

Kleon’s eyes flashed. He may have used the Blood Fever, like opportunist he was, to claim Athens but he would  _a_ _lways_ be nothing but a simple man. A dog without a bite. Wound his ego and, like all other men who thought they held any power over her because they spent one night between her legs, he would throw a temper tantrum like a little child.

“If only I believed that was true,” he snarled but his gaze flickered. “Sink her, And this time, do not bring her back up until she’s ready to talk,” he turned to walk away, “or dead.”  

**Ω**

They came for Aspasia again and just like the time before she'd given Phoibe a warm smile promising she would be back. Then Aspasia would let the guards drag her away leaving Phoibe alone in the dark dungeon.

She was only eight festival calendars old. She was no threat so they simply ignored her. It suited her just fine and it meant there was no guard keeping watch on her. There was one further down the dark and narrow passage but he was too busy sleeping to notice her where she sat. She scraped the small stone around the base of the chain. It was slow work but the wood was damp, giving way and she’d already managed to carve out a small ring around it.

She tugged at the chain. It clanked loudly and wiggled ever so slightly. She pulled at it again not bothering to be discrete about it. There was no one around anyway.

“Yes,” she hissed fisting the air when the bolt holding the chain in place moved once again.

“You might as well give up, child.”

She glared at the raggedy man sitting against the wall in the cell next to them. He was an older man, much older than Aspasia. Phoibe could tell by the wrinkles and whitening hair. He was _at l_ _east thirty_  festival calendars old! Ignoring him she returned to scraping with her stone at the wood that turned into fine grain and splinters underneath the sharp tip.

“Do you know how long I’ve been here for?”

There was one thing her parents had taught her. Don’t talk to strangers. But Kassandra had said that if those strangers looked like they could help in a dire situation she could talk to them. She looked away from her scraping and narrowed her eyes.

“Nine long calendar years,” he sighed not bothering to wait for her reply, “and do you know how many I’ve seen escape?” He crawled to his knees and moved closer to the metal bars that separated them. His face was gaunt and dirty, hair looking like when Phoibe’s mater had just gotten out of bed. But he didn’t look very dangerous.

“How many?” she finally asked.

“Come closer and I’ll tell you.” He stuck his hand through the bars and motioned for her to come closer. It looked gnarled like a tree which branches were stumped and rotten at the end. “Come on, I won’t bite. I promise I’ll tell you.”

She frowned. She was eight, she wasn’t _stupid_. “I’m not going to go near you.”

“But I know how to escape. I could help you and that... _pretty_ woman you are with.” His eyes glinted and Phoibe didn’t like it one bit.

“If you know, why are you still in your cell?”

His tongue darted from his mouth licking his chapped lips. “Because I can’t escape on my own, I need help.” _That_ she didn’t doubt.

She pondered his words though. Maybe he knew something that could help them. She watched him. _Listen to your gut, Phoibe,_ Kassandra would always tell her. His eyes lit up when she looked at him the corners of his mouth curling upwards. He didn’t seem dangerous, and he was on the other side of the bars but she still didn’t trust him.

“You can tell me or I’ll find my own way.” She went back to working on loosening the chain.

The metal bars rattled hard. “You come here! You’re a child, come here!”

She stared at him. One hand clutching the bars shaking them wildly, the other reaching out through them. “You’ll never get out! You’ll never escape!”

She narrowed her eyes and did what she imagined Kassandra would do to her enemies. Stuck her tongue out.

“Look what you’ve done,” a low voice said from behind her startling her to spin around.

A woman with brown unruly hair, the size of a big bear stood with her hands on her hips in the cell on the other side of Phoibe’s. By her sheer size, Phoibe wondered if perhaps she _was_ a bear. She blinked and dropped the chain to the floor in sheer fright.

“I-I wasn’t…”

“Give me that.” The woman nodded at the chain and Phoibe shook her head scared of what she might do. “You’re a clever one, but if you really do want to escape...you’ll hand me that chain.”

She nodded slowly picking up the chain from the floor. It felt heavier than any of the other times she’d pulled at it. Slowly, still judging whether or not the woman would try to grab her from behind the bars, Phoibe moved closer, chain hanging from her arms.

“Tell me,” the woman said and plucked the chain between two fingers as if she was simply picking up a fig, “why didn’t you do what old Sophos asked you to do, but you’re doing what I’m asking you to?”

“Kassandra,” she whispered.

“Kassandra?”

“She told me to trust my gut,” she answered still expecting the woman to reach out and grab hold of her. Instead, she yanked hard at the chain. It came loose with a clanging sound and thudded to the floor.

“I like her.” She dropped the chain back into Phoibe’s arms then turned on her heels to sit down in the dark of her cell.  

 

**Ω**

_The stone slab is cool, shielded from the sun by the blossoming crown of a cherry tree. She doesn’t quite know why she is there. For solace? To ask for strength? To pray for forgiveness? She places her hand on her stomach. Life grows within her. One that she and Kassandra had created. A small miracle._

_Her hand brushes against the draught in the small pouch tied to her chiton. The temple midwife had given Chrysanthe the draught and it weighs heavy at her side. All she had to do was drink it. And the small miracle would simply cease to grow, the child that was hers and Kassandra’s, the alpha’s she loved. Chrysanthe had given herself to the alpha. Given Kassandra her innocence, her heat and the child was the result of all of that. Of the trust between them, of their love. She doesn’t think she can do it. This child is the only thing she has left of the alpha. The only reminder it wasn’t a dream, that she hadn’t imagined the summer spent in Kassandra’s arms._

_The memory of the alpha makes her ache. Some nights she dreams of Kassandra, that she’s lying on the bed behind her, her warm breath tickling the back of Chrysanthe’s neck. But each time she wakes to find the bed empty and cold and she curls up and sobs into her pillow, careful not to wake Agape._

_She blinks at the sudden dampness in her eyes and hugs her stomach protectively._

_A nimble hand holds out a linen handkerchief and she looks up to see a woman in her mid-thirties._

_“I couldn’t help but notice you earlier,” the woman says in a soft, well-spoken voice, almost like she’s been trained in the arts of speech. “It’s alright, you can have it.” The woman motions with the fine handkerchief and, reluctantly, Chrysanthe takes it and dabs at her eyes with it._

_She shouldn’t be so unsophisticated as to let her emotions show so blatantly. When she’s done she drops her hands into her lap. No one is supposed to know of her state._

_“Many women come here with similar burdens,” the woman who have stark blue eyes and black chin-length hair says. “But we have all suffered similar fates.”_

_“I don’t know what…” Chrysanthe starts but her voice trails off at the sight of the woman’s kind eyes as she places her hand on top Chrysanthe’s._

_“No one will share what you mourn here to anyone else.” Dark hair falls in her face as she nods towards the small pouch strapped to Chrysanthe’s hip._

_She lets her own eyes fall to the pouch, and once again grief tugs at her the corners of her mouth. “I don’t think I can...” She tries to steady her voice but it breaks before she can finish. “Malaká,” she whispers when the tears stain her cheeks._

_The woman doesn’t say anything, simply wraps an arm around Chrysanthe and pulls her in, allowing her to lean into her for support. It’s not until Chrysanthe’s shoulders shake violently, her mouth gasping for air in-between her quiet sobs, that the woman speaks again._

_“Forgive me if I ask, are you here working at the temple?”_

_She nods but quickly adds. “I have yet to start.”_

_It used to be something she was proud of. She was going to work at the temple of Artemis for the cult. She was going to help bring order to the world through knowledge and science. But the cult she’d grown up in, that had taught her everything, given her everything no longer felt like home and safety. It had torn her away from her alpha with the promise that if Chrysanthe did not leave to deal with their child the alpha would be held responsible. She’d heard that the cult could sometimes use extreme measures to gain more ground, but never had she imagined that this was how they wanted to bring order to Hellas._

_“Ah,” the woman hummed, “there is a saying here amongst the clientele and hetaerae, I'm sure you've heard of it: the only thing worse than an unattractive hetaera is…” she looked at Chrysanthe’s hands._

_“A pregnant one,” she finishes the sentence quietly._

_The woman sighs and glances up towards the temple far away in the distance at the Akrokorinth. “I once worked up there.”_

_Chrysanthe dries her eyes with the handkerchief. She may be in pain, but she wasn't simple, there must be a reason this woman was telling her this. “But not anymore?” What did one do when they couldn't be a hetaera anymore? She observes the woman sitting next to her._

_She wears a coral peplos that dips low in the front, much lower than a woman of proper status would ever wear, revealing tantalising, soft skin. A pretty belt wraps itself around her curvaceous hips and a gold necklace rests on top of her collarbones. Everything about the woman draws one's gaze to the promise of soft curves and flesh. Yes, now that she knows what she's looking for she can tell: this woman was a hetaera._

_“I'd like to think of myself as a businesswoman,” she smiles though there is something distinctly sad about her smile._

_“You...you bought your freedom?”_

_Blue eyes avert themselves to the altar in front of them. “No, my...patron did.”_

_Chrysanthe blinks. A patron, paying off the hetaera's debt? It was almost unheard of. Some were lucky enough to find a long-lasting relationship, but it was rare and only granted the hetaera her freedom until the patron either tired or died. The only pornaí or hetaerae who were free were those who had earned enough to buy their own freedom. And that took years._

_“And he wanted nothing in return?” She tries to not sound sceptical._

_A low, amused chuckle slips across the woman's plump lips. “Whoever said it was a he?”_

_“Oh.” Chrysanthe blushes feeling stupid. If anyone, she should know men weren't the only ones pining for beautiful women._

_“ She was a misthios.” The hetaera's face took on a faraway look, a small smile playing on her lips at the memory of the misthios. “She would compete in the arena where only the most skilled mercenaries were called to contest. Last one standing crowned the winner.”_

_“It sounds rather brutish,” Chrysanthe wrinkles her nose at the thought of an arena where people went to kill each other._

_“Oh,” the hetaera shook her head, “how I worried for her. And yet, at the end of every month, she returned to me. I could never understand why she would risk her life for something like the arena.”_

_“She did for you,” Chrysanthe says slowly, knowing that despite the glimmer of hope that flickers to life in her chest, she can never be with Kassandra again, no matter how much drachmae she had. Thaddeus and Lysandra knew of her now and kept a watchful eye on the young alpha. “She must have held you very dear to do something like that.”_

_Nodding the hetaera folds one leg across the other in a fluid, smooth motion. “Yes. Until she found out I was with child.”_

_“With child?” Of course, the woman was still a hetaera. She could have become pregnant any time during the misthios’ absence. “But she knew what you...what you were…” She can feel her own heart drop as if the woman’s story could be her own. If Kassandra knew if she ever found out what Chrysanthe would become, would she look at her the same way? Would the alpha even be able to look at her at all?_

_The woman shrugs but the corner of her mouth twitches in a sad smile. “I was free but without my love, pregnant but no drachmae to my name. What kind of life could I offer a child?” She shakes her head. “It’s not an easy choice and it will stay with you forever but if it’s the only way then you must drink the draught the midwife gave you.”_

_Chrysanthe looks at the pouch. She had no choice. They would kill Kassandra and even if she could somehow escape the cult’s clutches she had no drachmae to get her back to Kephallonia. She shakes her head. She doesn’t want to, but she can’t keep it. Not if she wants Kassandra to live._

_“You don’t have to decide today, but the longer you wait, the harder it will get.”_

_“How will I live with myself?” She looks into the kind blue eyes hoping for some kind of answer._

_The hetaera grabs her hands and gives them a firm squeeze. “You learn to live with it, never forget it, but each day the pain dulls. If you need anyone to talk to, just ask for Selene. I’m always around. I like to stay close to my Kallias.”_

Air surged into her lungs once more and she gulped and gasped no longer trying to hide her desperation. Her lips quivered uncontrollably, her soaked chiton clinging to her body the dampness penetrating her to her very bones.

She shivered and clung on to the basin with one hand, the other one working the nail underneath it lose. She’d noticed it after the first few times being forced under the water when her hand, desperately trying to find purchase to push herself up had brushed against it. She almost had it. She only needed to get it loose enough for her to slide it out and hide it somewhere in her chiton.

The Athenian general tutted as he stepped forward to curl a finger around her chin. “Look at those lips. To think they brought me such pleasures, now look at them.” He released her chin.

Her heart raced. This was her last chance. Her body was growing too weak and she wouldn’t last much longer. She could feel her strength bleeding out faster with each heartbeat. If they dragged her back to the cell she wouldn’t get another chance at prying the nail free.

She spat blood at his feet and pulled at the nail reopening the wound in her hand. “You’re nothing but a _small_ man.” she emphasised ‘small’ and Deimos who stood leaning against the far end choked on what seemed to be a laugh. “ _That_ I would know.”

Kleon’s head jerked towards Deimos. “Know your place, boy,” he snarled raising a finger in Deimos’ direction. The alpha frowned and crossed his arms giving Kleon a blank look. It was the same look Kassandra had when she didn’t have any malákes left to give. His scent was difficult to read though and she couldn’t quite judge if he was amused or angry. Most alphas and omegas masked their scents unless in heat or a rut which would be why he couldn't identify her as The Ghost.   

“You should tread carefully.” Kleon turned his attention to her, “if you won’t give me the information I need, you’re useless to me.”

She could feel the nail slowly giving way and she grimaced trying to pull as hard as she could without drawing attention to her movements. “You’re scared of this woman. But it is not The Ghost you should fear. It’s the Eagle Bearer.”

Deimos’ eyes snapped towards her and she unmasked her scent to him. Kassandra had marked her. Deimos would be able to scent his sister on Aspasia.

The backhanded slap came before she had time to brace herself. Kleon’s knuckles connected with her cheek the sheer force of it whipping her head to the side. She let her body slam to the side masking the hard tug at the nail that slid out with a satisfying grating motion. She pretended to steady herself hiding the long nail in the waist of her chiton.

Kleon raised his hand again when a dark voice cut through the room.

“Wait.”

All heads turned to look at Deimos who spoke for the first time since they brought her to this part of the dungeons. He’d been there every time, watching silently but never saying a word.

“I want to use her.” His eyes grew hard. “For bait. And you know what they say: you want to catch the big fish...you need live bait.”

 

**TO BE CONTINUED...**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...Selene was back. *hearty eyes*  
> And who's in line to kill Kleon?!
> 
> Comment below what you thought of the chapter. You don't have to be a member.  
> And you'll make me a happy bunny! Also, I'm looking for music to break my heart  
> drop me a comment with the saddest music you got.


	8. Phoibe's Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say thank you SO much for all the support.  
> Thanks for giving me and this fic a chance and for  
> leaving your lovely comments, kudos etc.
> 
> I am forever grateful for this chance to share my story.
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

  **Athens, Hekatombaion 426 BC**

Aspasia hugged her bruised body in a futile attempt to give it some warmth. She grimaced. It only made the damp silk and wool of her chiton cling tighter to her skin. Shuddering she shifted where she sat leaning against the cold, hard cave wall.

Her movement drew Phoibe’s worried gaze and she tried to give the little girl a reassuring smile. But it hurt. Everything hurt. Her face, her ribs, lungs and feet. She’d tucked them underneath herself and wrapped the wet chiton around the bruises and cuts in her sides so that Phoibe wouldn’t have to see them.

The little girl was already worrying far too much about her. She had cleverly used one of the torches to make a small fire next to Aspasia in a desperate attempt to warm her up. Where she’d gotten the sticks from Aspasia had no idea of, and it lasted for less than a candle drop but it did provide her with much-needed warmth.

The last time Aspasia had spent trapped in a cave was eight years ago. The night she was inexplicably drawn to Kassandra, like a moth drawn to the flames even though getting too close would surely mean the end for it. Kassandra was the flame and she had been the moth unable to resist the enchanting bright light.

Eight years felt like a lifetime ago where she sat. That night, however, had been nothing like the nights spent in the dungeons.  That night had been spent trying to discover who the young woman sitting next to her was. Chrysanthe had thought she was good at reading people, that she had the alpha figured out by a quick glance. But she had not even scratched the surface of who Kassandra was.

An illiterate orphan outcast from Sparta. Thrown to her death from Mount Taygetos and somehow lived to tell Chrysanthe the story. Kassandra of Nowhere the young alpha had called herself and in that moment, when she looked at Kassandra, the omega saw a burden no one should bear. She saw loneliness, and a yearning to belong. And guilt. She’d looked into the amber eyes and wondered if that look would ever go away. It seemed she would never find out.

Back then she could never understand how Kassandra had survived that night on Mount Taygetos. How could she have possibly survived such a fall? Not even the alpha herself could understand how.

Once she’d been brought to her first cultist meeting, it didn’t take Aspasia long to figure out how. There were many cultists active within the cult such as Agape and herself but only the most important members were allowed to the meetings. It was there she first heard of Deimos, the cultists’ secret weapon. A warrior reborn from stone. She had known then, who Kassandra was, _what_ Kassandra was. Chrysanthe had foolishly tried to send word with a ship addressed to the Cave Keeper letting them know the mountain goat from home had been found. Naturally, someone had found out about the note before the ink on her papyrus had even dried.

The Monger had taken great pleasure in teaching her a lesson in obedience. The soles of her feet had been sliced and burned, to teach her that no one escaped the cult. The Monger had laughed when Agape had helped her limp from his lair. No one paid well for a hetaera with hideous marks or scars on her body, but who cared what was under her feet? She’d been more careful from then on. She would be no good to Kassandra if she was dead.

Dead. She grimaced. It was a fairly accurate description of how she felt where she sat drifting in and out of memories and thoughts.

“Phoibe,” she whispered trying to keep her lips from shaking from the cold.

“Aspasia?” Phoibe crawled closer.

She reached for the long nail hidden in her chiton and pushed it into Phoibe’s palm. With her cold hand on top of Phoibe’s she curled her tiny fingers around the nail. “You need to get out of here. Next time the guards come, I will distract them, and you will run.”

Phoibe’s eyes went round. “But Aspasia…”

“You will _run,_  do you hear me Phoibe?” She steadied her voice pouring every ounce of the old Aspasia into it as she could muster. The same Aspasia that could make an entire symposium stop and stare. Who could make men and women alike bend to her will. Determined, leaving no room for discussion.

Phoibe’s features screwed up and she snatched her hand away from Aspasia. “No.”

Aspasia blinked. No? “Phoibe—”

“I said _no_.” The little girl folded her arms across her chest. “I already have a plan and it’s going to work.”

She smiled. There was so much of Kassandra in Phoibe. How much time had they spent together? Kassandra had been there since the day Phoibe grew up, eight years was a long time to be influenced by someone like the alpha.

“Very well,” she finally relented as Phoibe glared at her.

“Promise.”

She smiled and held out her hand to cup the little girl’s face with a shaking hand. “I promise, Little Warrior. Now tell me of your plan.”

“Actually,”  a voice said from the dark corner of the cell next to them, “the plan was mostly mine.” Their scent was distinct. Strong. An alpha.

Aspasia scrambled to her feet, sand and dirt grating her slashed soles as she grabbed Phoibe to pull her in behind her, shielding the little girl from whoever had spoken. She winced and stumbled forwards but managed to keep herself between the voice and Phoibe.

“Calm yourself, Omega.” The speaker stepped into the faint light cast from the torch outside their cells. She was a large woman built like an ox with arms thick and oak-like. The woman would no doubt dwarf even Kassandra, and she was taller than most women.

“I won’t bite. Unless of course, you ask me to.” It was said in jest but the years working in Korinthia had _not_ been kind to Aspasia.

Thought the hetaerae were a step up from the pornaí, they were still merely bodies that—once paid for—was someone else’s to use as they wished.

Aspasia recoiled and snarled. She would fight tooth and rusty, long nail before allowing this alpha to so much as sneeze at her or Phoibe.

The alpha held her hands up in the air. “Calm now. It was maybe a poorly placed joke but I assure you, Omega, I will not hurt you or your child.”

Aspasia observed the alpha through narrowed eyes her mistrust for strangers too deeply rooted. A small hand tugged at her skirt.

“It’s true, she won’t hurt us. Look she even helped me get this loose.” Phoibe pointed at the chain that lay wrapped around the beam. Now that Aspasia peered closer she could see the chain was not at all attached only cleverly made to look like it was. She glanced back up at the brutish looking woman who gave a careless shrug.

“Why?” Aspasia put her arm around Phoibe’s shoulder protectively. If it was one thing being in Athens, being the leader of the cult had taught her, it was that _no one_ did anything to simply help. Everyone had a reason, an end goal. Even Aspasia herself. Keeping Kassandra safe, changing the cult, weeding out the bad roots or taking it down.

The woman snorted. “Couldn’t I just be in a helpful mood?”

This made the omega return the alpha’s snort. She may look like the damsel in distress but she hadn’t become the leader of the cult by being foolish nor—as some believed—by spreading her legs. No, Aspasia’s mind had been trained too well by the cult. Which never expected her to use all her knowledge to fight her way to the top. Many battles weren’t won by brute force but by a sharp mind.

“Do not play games with me, alpha,” she snarled.

“Now, now, a simple Kallistê will do,” the alpha tsked.

“Then speak plainly, _Kallistê_.” She gave a small but curt nod slipping easily into her role as Aspasia, consort of Perikles.

Kallistê regarded her for a short moment no doubt weighing her options. “I want out as much as you do and she,” Kallistê nodded towards Phoibe, “is the smallest prisoner we’ve ever had. So small, in fact, she could get through the bars.”

Aspasia blinked. For a split candle drop she’d thought this alpha woman would be able to help but her great plan was to have Phoibe crawl through the bars? Granted Phoibe was small but not even she would be able to squeeze through the bars.

The space between the bars was wide enough for Aspasia to easily get one shoulder through them and probably her head. But even so, it would not allow Phoibe to squeeze through.

“And exactly _how_ do you propose that will happen?” She scowled.

“How about you take your clothes off and I’ll show you.”

“I will _not_ ,” she hissed covering Phoibe’s ears should the barbarian come with any more inappropriate suggestions.

Kallistê laughed and much to Aspasia’s annoyance it was a rather pleasant sound. “I am not interested in your...commodities. But your chiton is wet and I once met a man from the East. Taught me a lot of useful things.”

Aspasia’s lips thinned in dismay. “You are going to have to be much more detailed than that.”

“The wet textiles. If you give it to me I can bend the bars and the little one will be able to sneak out and grab the keys from over there.” Kallistê jutted her chin towards the wall were a set of keys hung from a thick iron ring.

A gurgling chuckle sounded from somewhere behind Aspasia. “Yes, yes...you should take that pretty chiton off. Certainly, it would make you dry faster.”

Kallistê rolled her eyes. “You know, it’s perfectly legitimate for you to kick him the face.”

Aspasia was contemplating it, if only for a heartbeat when movement sounded to their left. Footsteps coming down the cave tunnel and they all drew away from each other, falling silent as two men walked into sight.

She froze. The scent, musky, dangerous, unstable. Deimos.

**Ω**

Rage coursed through her veins spurred by the fear that had her heart slamming wildly through her chest as she cut her way through the guards at the prison.

Deimos had killed Perikles and taken Aspasia and Phoibe two days prior to Kassandra’s arrival in Athens. And like Socrates had pointed out when she pushed her way through the crowd outside the late general’s villa, they could be anywhere by now. _If_ they were even still alive, he’d so helpfully added.  

“They are still alive. Aspasia is still alive, I know it,” she’d said ignoring the philosopher’s warning.

“Judging by the state of things inside the villa—”

She raised her finger in the air, brows knitting together as she glared at him. The man was venturing into dangerous territory.

“Do not tell me she is dead.” She took a step closer to him bringing their faces together before snarling, “because I would know.” She would know. She would  _feel_ it. Despite the years passed between them Kassandra had always known Chrysanthe was out there. Alive.

“What I think Socrates means is that there are many places they could have been taken to,” Hippokrates had stepped forward trying to calm the situation.

“Then _tell_ me where I should look!” She barked at the bald man.

He flinched. “I would start at the prison. But, Kassandra,” Hippokrates gave her a pleading look, “the Blood Fever is killing enough people in the Greek world right now. _Please_ try to not kill needlessly.”

She’d stared silently at him before taking off towards the prison. Kleon and Deimos had taken two of the people she loved the most. She would cut down _anyone_ that stood in her way to get to them. She was a mercenary, not a hero.

She stepped over the dead bodies in the narrow corridor, moving with deadly determination towards a guard lying on his back, the spear of Leonidas lodged into his shoulder. Her fingers curled around the hilt and she gave the spear the smallest twist drawing a scream from the guard’s lips.

“Maláka, listen carefully to me now." She kneeled down by him and levelled her face with his, so close he could no doubt feel her breath against his face. “I’m going to ask you once because I’m already in a bad mood _and_ one of you got blood on my skirt.”

“I have searched every cell in this malákas prison and colour me surprised but I cannot find who I’m looking for. So tell me, where did Kleon take Aspasia?”

“I don’t know.” The guard, a young man probably no older than twenty whimpered below her.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Now, _that_ was not the answer I was looking for.”

“I swear it, by Zeus, I don’t know.” His eyes flickered. He was lying and he was wasting her time.

“ _Don’t_ lie to me.” She wiggled the spear forcing a scream from the guard.

“I’m not by the gods, I promise, I’m not!” His voice shook tears starting to roll down his face. “I—”

She jerked him up by the neck of his chestplate. “I told you! I only wanted to ask you once! I will _tear_ you apart, limb by limb if you don’t tell me where my omega and my...my Phoibe are!”

His eyes widened his mouth falling open at the realisation. He was keeping an alpha from her omega. Like getting between a lion and its prey. “The dungeons! The General has his hetaera in the dungeons.”

 _The general has his hetaera_. Fury flared to life at the thought of the general touching Chrysanthe with his filthy hands. Kleon that fucking maggot. She was going to hunt him down and _kill_ him but this malaká had slowed her down. She slammed the guard hard into the ground. He cried out using one hand to pull at her wrist.  

“You lying snake.” She pulled him up and slammed him down again. “Where are the dungeons?”

“Behind the far end building. The long one,” he gasped and she dropped him unceremoniously back to the floor then yanked the spear from his shoulder. His howling of pain still carried through the barracks as she made her way out towards the dungeons. He best pray Aspasia and Phoibe were still alive or she'd come back to finish the job she started.

Rounding the corner of the building she spotted the small cave entrance. And a patrol of a good ten or so guards. Usually, she would have used the shrubbery to her advantage, taking them out one by one. But there was no time to waste.

She wiped her lance on her skirt, cracked her neck, then broke into a mad sprint.   

**Ω**

Deimos. Born of the stone, resurrected from the mountains. If one was to believe his worshippers. He was studying her with flinty, dark eyes.

“Kleon thought he had broken you by now,” he spoke drawing to a stop outside her cell, “but here you stand looking ever the state's woman.” Mockery had bled into his voice.

She ignored it. He was trying to get a reaction from her but unlike the other cultist instead of a demigod, Aspasia saw but a young man with his mind just as manipulated as hers had once been. Though he was a force brought to its existence by cruelty and torture, his mind knowing no peace at all, he was still Kassandra’s little brother. A mere boy of eighteen.

“I must admit,” he started pacing back and forth as he spoke, much like an actor on a stage, “when you first revealed yourself to me I wondered _why_ the Eagle Bearer would mark someone as pitiful as you…”

She tried not to snort. She was many things a hetaera, a consort, a leader, an omega...but pitiful? No, that was not on the list. “Looks can be deceiving.”

A sneer pulled at his lips. “Clearly. But tell me, _why_ is Kleon so obsessed with you?”

“He hasn’t told you?” She quirked an eyebrow. It was a simple trick, one daring Deimos to question why Kleon hadn’t told him.

His eyes narrowed. “Why would he have told me about? You are no one.”

“I thought Kleon told you everything. Is that why you haven’t been to see The Ghost?”

“The Ghost?” His forehead puckered. “You told Kleon you didn’t know her.”

She chuckled the low, sensual kind. “So he didn’t tell you she’s been asking for you. Why is he hiding things from you?”

He stopped his pacing and grabbed the metal bars, his knuckles paling. “Is this what this Eagle Bearer have told you?” His eyes grew darker the muscles in his face twitching.

Whatever Chrysis and Kleon had done to the boy it had broken him so thoroughly he could not control his emotions. Like a caged animal clawing and scratching to break free. Lashing out at anything it perceived as a threat.

“Alexios,” she said softly and placed her hands on his. She’d seen the boy shove cultists to the side for simply brushing their cloaks against him and she expected him to swat her hands away. Instead, his gaze flickered before dropping to their hands. “Your sister has been trying to find you ever since she found out you were still alive. She thought you were dead.”

He jerked his hands away. “That’s because _she_ threw me off that mountain!”

“No,” she shook her head, “there is proof, see for yourself. In Perikles's office, there is a shelf with scrolls. Hidden at the very top. It’s signed by Iokaste instructing Chrysis to take you from your family.”

He let out a peal of raspy mirthless laughter. "And why should I believe _you,_ the Eagle Bearer's omega? You would say anything she wants you to."

“I’d be more interested in how, in name of Hades, does she know of the scrolls?” the dry voice said from next to them. Kallistê. Aspasia turned to glare at her.

Deimos’s gaze slid from Aspasia towards the other alpha. He rested his eyes on her before looking back at Aspasia, brown eyes, familiar yet different. Unknown to her. Cold and hard, unkind in every way.  “Well?”

“I know this because—”

“You know whatever she says will be a lie.” Kallistê interrupted her. Deimos’s gaze flickered. “There’s only one way to find out the truth from people who are hiding things. You take what they love.”

He hesitated but then his gaze landed somewhere behind Aspasia. 

“The girl,” Deimos said and looked at the guard, “open this door.”

“No!” Fear spiked in Aspasia’s heart and she spun on her heels trying to locate Phoibe.  But Deimos and his guard were too fast. The door flew open Deimos pushing through it. She lunged at him. Arms stretched out trying to get between him and Phoibe.

His hand caught her by the throat, fingers digging in hard as he lifted her off the floor. He snarled at her, then with a simple flick of his wrist, he tossed her across the cell. She crashed into the bars, head slamming into them. Pain ricocheted through her head black dots pulsing before her eyes. Something warm trickled down the back of her head as she dragged herself across the cave floor. She blinked her eyelids growing heavier by each heartbeat threatening to pull her into darkness.  

"Phoibe," she whispered through the fog settling in her head.

Blood, dark and thick dripped onto the ground, pooled underneath her palms that dragged her towards the small girl who was pressing herself against the bars. Aspasia looked at her hands. There was so much blood.

She dropped forward, her arms too weak to hold her weight anymore. Her mind screamed in protest, urging her to get back up but all she could do was watch as Deimos grabbed Phoibe by her shoulders.

"Please," she sobbed when the chain suddenly flashed in the dim cell. With a loud rattle, it wrapped itself around Deimos's neck, through the bars, yanking him back against the metal.

He yelped, thrashing against the bars with his back but the thick arms pulling at the chains gave no leeway.

Kallistê, her face set and grim. The chain wrapped around her wrists, and she gripped it tightly with her hands, one foot pressing against the bars as a counterweight. Deimos’s eyes bulged, his fingers grasping at the chain.

The guard who had been stood outside jolted into action with an angry yell. Sword raised he dashed towards Kallistê.

Darkness pulled at Aspasia’s eyelids when a small shape appeared seemingly out of nowhere to stand between Kallistê and the guard. Phoibe. Like a small cub trying to fend off an apex predator.

“Phoibe, no.” Her shout came out a whisper. Unable to stop the guard she helplessly watched the sword as it changed its direction, jabbing forwards. A high pitched shriek cut through the dungeons. Then her vision blurred and dimmed until darkness pulled her under.

**Ω**

“Wake up.” Someone shook her shoulder. “Wake up!”

Aspasia groaned, her eyes fluttering open and she blinked against the harsh light. A face came into her view, the light cast from the torch like a halo around it. A beautifully familiar small face. Alive and unharmed.  

“Phoibe?” She blinked in bewilderment as the small girl helped her sit up. Glancing around she tried to determine what had happened after she passed out. Deimos had sagged to the ground, his big bulk leaning against the bars, unconscious but alive. Next to him lay the guard moaning, his hands shaking as they stretched towards the long rusty nail piercing his thigh, just above the knee.

“We have to go,” Phoibe whispered, “before mean man wakes up.”

“Where is Kallistê?” She crawled onto her hands and knees. A wave of nausea washed over her and she leaned over to vomit, her head spinning wildly. Wiping her hand unceremoniously on her chiton she grabbed with the other hand at the bars using it to drag herself into a standing position. Phoibe standing next to her snaked an arm around her waist doing what little she could to help support her.

“Kallistê said she was going to clear the way out,” Phoibe said as they made their way out of the cell at a painstakingly slow pace.

Aspasia clung to the wall for support, forcing herself to keep moving, to get Phoibe out. Get her to safety. Every footstep pulled at the lacerations under her feet as they stumbled through the narrow, dark tunnels.

“Aspasia?” Phoibe’s voice sounded small and frightened. “Your head looks really bad.”

“It’s nothing,” she promised.

“But there was _a lot_ of blood…”

“It only looked like that because my hair is so wet,” she lied. There had been a lot of blood. Too much. She would not make it out and if Phoibe stayed with her neither would she. “Phoibe,” she muttered fighting off the weariness that was settling in begging her to lie down for a rest.

“Yes?”

She took a deep breath. “Why don’t you run ahead and find Kallistê? Make sure she’s alright.” For some reason, Aspasia trusted the alpha. Something told her Kallistê would keep Phoibe safe. Perhaps it was omega instinct, perhaps a mother’s instinct, Aspasia couldn’t tell where she dragged herself along the wall.

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine, Kallistê has taken care of the guards already.” She nodded towards the bodies that lay like lifeless lumps on the ground. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Phoibe hesitated but then when Aspasia managed to smile and wink she nodded slowly. “Alright, I’ll check on her and then come back.”

“Mhm,” Aspasia nodded, “don’t stop until you see her. This is very important, you understand me?”

Nodding once Phoibe let go of her waist then took off sprinting up the tunnel. Aspasia kept moving making sure Phoibe could see she was still following, every time the little girl turned her head back to check on her. She was fast for someone so small and after only a short while her small frame rounded a corner disappearing from view.

Aspasia held herself upright a few moments longer in case Phoibe decided to turn and check on her. But when she was sure Phoibe was gone she stopped and slumped against the wall, closing her eyes. Her chest tightened with a strange feeling. Pain? Sorrow?

Her legs too weak to carry her further gave way and she slid to the ground. This was where she would die. Leaning against the wall in a dark, damp cave. A bitter chuckle slipped across her lips. Very befitting the leader of the cult.   

She’d come so far. From that first day in Athens to Kephallonia meeting Kassandra, the woman who would forever hold her heart, to leading the cult of Kosmos. She had loved so fiercely, broken so utterly that she thought she may never be whole again. And then her alpha had returned to her. Fate had brought them together once more, allowing her one last glance at her beloved. Allowed her to feel Kassandra’s arms around her once more. It was more than she had ever thought she would be granted. And now Phoibe would be safe. With Kallistê. Kassandra would find the girl. Once she got to Athens she would find Phoibe again. There would be nothing in this world strong enough to stop Kassandra from getting to Phoibe.

She smiled at the thought of Phoibe and Kassandra on the Adrestia. Safe and far away from Athens. Happy. Free. She could rest now, close her eyes and welcome the darkness looming behind her eyelids. Welcome her freedom at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *blinks*  
> So...what did you think?  
> Please leave a comment!


	9. Before The Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hai. Don't hate me, please. I love you all.  
> Thank you for existing and brightening my day with your comments!
> 
> This entire chapter was written with Rameses B - Before The Storm on repeat. 
> 
> Koukla mou = My doll but in a loving sort of way. Often used for children.  
> Papagálo = Parrot  
> Mou = My  
> Kardia mou= My heart  
> Katalavenis = Do you understand?

**Athens, Hekatombaion 426 BC**

The caves smelled like the tomb she found on Delos when sabotaging the Athenian camps holding the food supplies for Podarkes’s soldiers. Musty and stale and it was just as cold despite the torches glowing with a warm light.

The Captain of the guard sunk towards the ground, eyes wide in horror and pain, hands clutching at the long spear piercing his chest. Using her entire body for strength she straightened the spear, pushing it forward with her arm and with a hard downwards kick she sent his body sliding down the spear until he hit the ground. A gurgle of pain escaped his mouth, then dark blood bubbled from his lips.

“You deserved worse than this,” she snarled ripping the long spear from his body the smell of copper thick in the air. Heavy footsteps thudded up the path leading further down into the dungeons. They moved without trying to disguise their approach.

Kassandra sighed. The caves were much bigger than she had anticipated and ten guards had turned into fifteen, and fifteen into twenty. It was taking too long. Turning she saw a lone soldier appear from the tunnel a large axe gripped in their hand.

Kassandra frowned. The figure didn’t look like an Athenian soldier. They wore a chiton much like the ones the Daughters of Artemis wore. Deep green, with a shroud that covered their face. A Daughter? What could she be doing here, in Athens? The one Daughter she’d met did rarely, if ever, venture into the bigger cities. Just getting Daphnae to meet her at the harbour of Chios had been difficult enough. The Huntress did not like cities. They were too crowded and people too disconnected to Gaia and her animal companions. So what was this Daughter doing in an Athenian dungeon? A mercenary?

The figure spotted her and swung her axe onto her shoulders. It was done with such ease it was as if the axe was but a toothpick. Kassandra dropped into a battle stance preparing herself for yet another fight and had to keep herself from gawking as the woman drew even closer.

Tall, towering Kassandra, her body a mass of well-sculpted muscles. If she wasn’t a half-titan Kassandra would be surprised. This was not a woman she wanted to go into battle with.

“Well, shit…” She grit her teeth when the half-giant came to a halt in front of her. Her eyes dropped to the ground, sweeping in a slow arch across the bodies that covered the cave floor.

“Poseidon’s balls if I'm wrong, but you _must_ be the famed Eagle Bearer.”

That was _not_ what she had expected. “I am.” She tightened her grip on her grandfather's spear. “And you are?”

“You can call me Kallistê.” The misthios gave a small bow before continuing, “well, _Eagle Bearer_ , though I’m pretty sure you have a nice bounty on your head with everything I’ve heard...like I told your omega, I am in a very helpful mood today.”

“Chryssa?” She clashed her sword and spear hard together, sparks and flames igniting as she raised her spear stepping forward. Giant or not, if this woman stood between her and Chrysanthe, Kassandra would cut her to shreds. No man, woman, giant or god would keep her from her omega.

Grey eyes narrowed at her and for a moment it looked like the woman was going to attack but she lowered her axe with a shrug. “I guess I would react the same if my beta was in trouble.”

An alpha? She stepped closer to the woman scenting her. She did not smell of Chrysanthe. “Where is she?”

“In the dungeons with your daughter.”

“My—” she paused a scowl tugging at her face, “and you just _left_ them?”

“Don’t worry that dainty face off, I left them safe in their cell to clear the dungeons and keep them out of harm’s way.”

Kassandra’s scowled deepened. She wasn’t sure she felt insulted or reassured. Perhaps both? The light patter of feet running up the path caught her attention and she tilted her head peering past Kallistê to see a small figure dart towards them. Her chest filled with relief the emotion so overwhelming it felt like her chest was going to burst.

“Phoibe!” She’d taken no more than two steps before the little girl was in her arms, her tiny body cold but alive. “Phoibe mou,” she whispered running her hands over the small body making sure the little girl was unharmed.

“Kass,” Phoibe hid in her arms and she held her tight, “you came back.”

“I was so worried.” Her words almost choked in her throat as she brushed the dark hair from Phoibe’s dirtied face. “Where is Aspasia?”

“She told me to check on Kallistê to make sure she was alright.”

Kassandra frowned. Why would Chryssa send Phoibe to look for Kallistê who no doubt could take care of herself? Why would she let Phoibe run off in a dungeon full of enemies? She wouldn’t unless it was…

“Phoibe, stay with Kallistê while I go help Aspasia.” She stood up glancing at the alpha who gave a small nod.

“But I promised Aspasia I would be back,” Phoibe protested.

“I know, but I’ll tell her she’ll see you soon, I promise.” She gave Phoibe’s head a small ruffle then with a last look at Kallistê set off down the path. She kept her running to a small jog until she was sure Phoibe couldn’t see her anymore. Then she broke into a desperate sprint. It made no sense to her that Chryssa would send Phoibe on her way, not unless she was trying to protect the little girl.  

 _If you let so much as a stray of hair get hurt on Phoibe I will find you. And then we won’t meet as old friends but as enemies._ It was the last thing she’d said to Chryssa before leaping off the villa. Her heart slammed with uncontrolled panic as she sped through the dark tunnel. She stumbled on something almost falling forward. One hand graced the dirt-covered ground pushing her body up allowing her to continue her sprint.

She leapt across jagged rocks, cut through thorn-covered bushes, forcing her body to move faster. Like Selene’s chariot, she raced forwards and then she saw it. The figure. Slumped against the cave wall her head leaning against it, arms cradling herself. Chryssa.

The omega smelled of blood and fear, the scent so strong it caused Kassandra to stumble backwards. What had Kleon done to her?

Blood covered Chrysanthe’s neck and shoulder, one side of her face swollen and blackened, the soles of her feet nothing but red gaping shreds caked with dirt and sand from the cave floor.

“No, no, no.” Kassandra slid to a stop next to the omega the hard ground scraping bleeding wounds onto her knees. “Aspasia?”

She put a shaking hand on the omega’s shoulder. It was too cold. Chryssa was too cold. Cupping the omega’s cheek with her hand she gently turned the still face towards her. “Chryssa?” She whispered pulling the omega into her arms. Maybe if she warmed her, Chryssa would wake up. Chryssa was probably just resting her eyes. _She’s just resting_.

“Chryssa, please look at me.” She brushed her thumb against the cold skin but Chrysanthe remained as still as before. Kassandra’s eyes darted across the beautiful omega she once fell asleep with in her arms dreaming of a better life. Together. Now she laid broken in Kassandra’s arms. Still and lifeless. She pressed her lips against the cold cheek willing the omega awake.

“Kassandra?” The weak whisper came, like a song to Kassandra where she sat cradling Chrysanthe in her arms.

“I’m right here, Chryssa.” She smiled relief washing over here. “I’m right here.”

A sob ripped from Chrysanthe’s lips. “I’m sorry, I tried.”

“No, no, no, don’t apologise. I’m sorry, I never should have said…”

“Aspasia!” Phoibe cried from behind Kassandra’s back. Light-brown eyes lifted towards Kassandra’s, weary and desperately sad, Chrysanthe’s bottom lip quivering as Phoibe dropped to her knees next to them.

The hand that rested in Chrysanthe’s lap opened and closed and she tried lifting it towards Phoibe who quickly took it in her hands. Tears rolled down the omega’s cheeks drawing pale streaks through the dirt and Kassandra kissed them, kissed the soft lips she had adored since the first night in their house.

“You’re going to be fine, agapi mou,” she whispered stroking her cheek gently.  

“I’m sorry, I—” Chrysanthe shook her head weakly. “M-may—” her breathing hitched in her chest, coming in shallow, short puffs. “Mm-maybe the afterlife…” she paused struggling to breathe and Kassandra shook her head.

“No,” she tried to say but it came out more a whine, her alpha pacing trying to protect its omega, trying to teether her in this world. But she could feel Chryssa slipping away, slipping through her fingers like fine sand. Just like the last days they spent together on Kephallonia, Kassandra could feel it in her bones. She was losing her omega again.

“Will be...kinder to us.” The hand that was clutching Phoibe's in hers fell to the ground.

A sudden pain exploded in Kassandra's chest as if someone had thrust a hand inside tearing her apart. A gasp ripped from her lips and she almost slumped forward still cradling the omega in her arms.

“Please Chryssa,” she whispered her voice trembling. “Please don’t leave me again.” The invisible bond she had once felt, the one that had always reassured her Chrysanthe was alive and well, was gone. Kassandra shook her head her vision blurring. It was _gone_ and only an aching void remained in her chest.  

“Kardia mou—” her voice broke with the first quiet sob forcing its way across her lips. Tears spilt from her eyes, charred their way down her cheeks. Merciless and raw and all she could do not to scream was to pull the omega closer burying her face at the soft neck. She smelled like honey. Like Chrysanthe. She smelled like home.    

**Ω**

Fields as far as the eye could reach stretched before her bursting with multicoloured waves of purple fading to blue, yellow and crimson fading to a saturated pink. Wide canals wound through the fields, crystal blue water shimmering invitingly in the warm midday sun. The vast blue sky and high rising plateaus mirrored themselves on the placid surface and peculiar blue beams cut through the air reaching for the sky.

“It is beautiful, don’t you think?” A tall woman taller than anyone Chrysathe had ever seen before stepped up next to her. She wore a stunning golden headwear that pulled her blonde hair from her face revealing an unearthly beautiful face with deep purple eyes. Who was this woman? Chrysanthe eyed the markings on the woman’s arms, long and glowing with the same yellow light as the artefact.

“It is,” she replied and looked away from the woman and back on to the open fields.

“I’m glad to hear that. I try to make it a nice place so that all of you who come here will handle your new situation better.” The woman made a sweeping motion with her hand towards the scenery before them.

“Our new situation?”

“Tell me,” the woman put her hands behind her back and looked across the fields, her expression turning pensive, “is there something different about this place?”

Chrysanthe paused to contemplate the question. Something did feel different about the colourful fields. It was unlike any other place she’d ever visited. Even more majestic than the vast poppy fields of Achaia. Birds chirped all around them, stags meandered in the fields and the sweet scent of jasmine and magnolia attracted clouds of butterflies. Blue, pink, and purple fluttering playfully in the air above the sweet-smelling flowers. It was peaceful. Serene even.

"It’s very...peaceful," she finally said.

“Peaceful? What makes it more peaceful than any other place?”

Chrysanthe frowned and let her gaze trail the starkly blue horizon. What made this place feel so serene, so safe? The calm of a cool summer breeze gently caressing the flowers that swayed under its touch? Possibly. But there was something else, something that had nothing to do with the beauty of the nature around her.

She blinked when it hit her. “There is no cult.”

“There is no cult,” the woman confirmed.

There was no cult, no Perikles, no Kleon or Kreios. She belonged to no one. She was...free?

“I am free,” she whispered in awe. For the first time, she was free. To do what she wanted. Be who she wanted to be. Live...she paused and blinked a memory slipping into her mind. One of darkness and coldness. One of pain and grief.

Kassandra. Her face, brows curled in despair, eyes round and pleading with Chrysanthe to stay. She’d held her like she would never let her go again, kissed her like the first night on the outlook.

“Where am I?” She looked back at the tall blonde woman. It drew a chuckle from her, her voice sounding as if she was talking into one of those soldier helmets.

“This is Elysium, Chrysanthe.” Purple eyes glittered. “And I am Persephone.”

**Ω**

Tears rolled down her cheeks staining Chrysanthe’s cold skin when a sob sounded next to Kassandra drawing her attention away from the omega.

Phoibe, mouth wide open, eyes squeezed shut as the little girl cried loudly, her tears mirroring Kassandra’s. Swallowing thickly she blinked through her own tears.

“Come here, papagálo mou.” She motioned with her hand to Phoibe who crawled closer and curled up next to Kassandra, wrapping her arms around her waist. Kassandra draped her free arm around Phoibe’s small body. It shook in her arms and she kissed the dark, dirty hair until her own pain became too overwhelming. She closed her eyes then hugging Phoibe harder allowing them both time to grieve.

Two feet drew to a stop beside them as the large woman crouched down. Though her face was long with hard square features and a broken nose, her grey eyes were soft when they met Kassandra’s.

“We have to go,” she said in a low almost revered voice.

Kassandra shook her head, her grip around Chrysanthe tightening. She could not leave her omega again. She would not.

“You have to get your daughter out of here.”

“She’s—” she started but felt the small girl shiver helplessly against her body.

“I will carry your omega for you. You carry the little one.”

“I…” Her gaze flickered.

“Your daughter needs you, Kassandra.” Kallistê gave her shoulder a firm squeeze, though her voice remained gentle and patient. She was right, with the Blood Fever and Kleon and Deimos running rampant in Athens she had to get Phoibe out. Though she wanted nothing more than to chase Kleon down and watch the life bleed from him slowly, she could not risk Phoibe’s safety. Not when Chrysanthe had given her life to keep Phoibe safe.

“All right,” she finally agreed with a numb nod. Kallistê moved across the floor and slid her arms in underneath Chrysanthe’s lifeless body. Instinct had Kassandra pull her closer until the other alpha locked her gaze with Kassandra’s.

“I will be careful, I promise.”

She released Chrysanthe then. She had no reason not to trust Kallistê and the only way she could get both Chrysanthe and Phoibe out of Athens was with the other woman’s help.

“Phoibe,” she squeezed the little girl tenderly, “we have to go.”

Brave as always Phoibe nodded still hidden under Kassandra’s arm and she untangled herself from the little girl to look at her.

“Aspasia said she was going to be fine.” Phoibe's face looked confused. Shameful like she'd done something terribly wrong.

“She wanted you to be safe. All she ever did was to keep you safe, katalavenis?”

Phoibe nodded slowly. “I think so.”

“Come here, koukla mou.” Kassandra held out her arms and Phoibe climbed into them allowing herself to be hoisted up on Kassandra's hips. Usually, Phoibe would sit on her shoulders, but Phoibe didn't need Kassandra the brave misthios with tales of wonders right now. She needed something more, something Kassandra had needed just as much from Markos. Someone to trust, to feel safe with. Someone who loved her unconditionally just like a parent.

“I really liked Aspasia,” Phoibe whispered against Kassandra's neck where she trekked behind Kallistê through the caves. “I thought maybe if I was good enough she would keep me...but now...no I have no one.” She whimpered in brutal and fragile honesty only children possessed.

“That's not true,” Kassandra said squeezing her tighter, “you have me.”

“But you said I couldn't come with you. That I'm too small.”

It was true that where Kassandra had gone was not safe for children. But she had been wrong thinking Phoibe was safer without her. She had been wrong about many things it seemed. And she was not going to repeat that. The Adrestia might not be safe for a child who knew nothing of sailing, who did not know to brace during attacks, or where to hide. But a child that had been trained and drilled would be just as safe on the Adrestia as anywhere else.

“I was wrong,” she confessed as the bright light from the cave entrance came into view. “You may be small, but you are the bravest person I know. And you'll make a fine sailor.”

**Ω**

She was dead. Dead. After all she'd done, fate had finally caught up with her.

“Elysium?”She echoed the tall woman. So it was real? The afterlife, the gods, all of it?

“You sound surprised.”

She was surprised. Elysium was real. The afterlife was real but why was _she_ there? After all the things she had done. After all the deaths, hurt and destruction, she had caused in her desire to keep Kassandra safe. To get her revenge. Why was she in Elysium and not banished to Tartaros?

“I didn't think I'd end up here,” she admitted. It was Elysium, she was dead, there was no point in pretending anymore.

“And just where did you think you'd end up?”

“I have done many things in my life. Things that do not justify my presence here.” She clasped her hands in front of herself much like she used to do at Perikles’s symposia. “I thought I would find myself somewhere less...beautiful,” she admitted.

Something flashed in Persephone’s eyes. Sympathy? Recognition? But she averted her gaze before Chrysanthe had a chance to decipher it.

“You are a strange one,” the goddess said after a while, “most people complain they end up here in the first place, not that they didn't go to Tartaros.”

“I’m not complaining…”

“Of course not. Who would be in the presence of a goddess and complain?” Purple eyes sparkled. “Walk with me.” The goddess held her arm out to the side towards a dirt path leading up and around one of the mountainous plateaus.

She followed the goddess, Chrysanthe was dead. What better things did she have to do? Standing around would only remind her of all the things she left unfinished. Of Phoibe. Of Kassandra.

She glanced over at Persephone as they followed the path up across the green, lush hill. The goddess was truly magnificent. Tall, piercing, bright eyes, the stories of her beauty not nearly doing the goddess justice. Persephone, a young girl, so beautiful Hades had dragged her into the Underworld against her will. Though the goddess was wearing a wedding band on her finger and moved with the pride of a lioness, Chrysanthe had spent too many years as Aspasia Consort of Perikles to be fooled by Persephone’s farce. Goddess or not, Chrysanthe recognised the pain and torment of someone trapped in a situation they could not escape.

Persephone led them around the base of the hill until they reached the outskirts of a small village with red and sandy white houses. Fenced in cattle grazed in the midday sun and a square in the middle of the village sported a small agora that had people dancing, singing and debating loudly.

“You are right,” Persephone said with a sigh.

Looking away from the village and up at the goddess, Chrysanthe frowned. “Right?”

“I can see it on your face. That you’re wondering about me and my husband.”

Chrysanthe opened her mouth but fell silent. “How did you know?” Could the goddess read minds?

“Besides the fact that it’s the first thing everyone asks me?” A smile tugged at Persephone’s lips.

“Right, of course.”

“We are similar, you and I, in that. We were both taken against our will, and I sense you are looking for a way to get back.” Persephone looked away from Chrysanthe and over at the village. “But before you do that, know that you have something here that I don’t.”

“Such as?” Chrysanthe scowled. She was rewarded with a simple nod towards the village, purple eyes fixed on to something at the edge of it. She followed her gaze, past the dirt road and cattle to the field next to the houses. Children playing.

“Xanthippus?” She felt her heart jolt at the thought of seeing her son again, of holding him in her arms once more.

“Xanthippus is with his father.”

Perikles. The realisation was a bittersweet one. Even in the underworld, she couldn’t escape the man.  

“I’m sure there will be time for you to reconcile with both of them, should you wish to…” Persephone said but the rest of her words were drowned out as Chrysanthe spotted her. The young child. Golden curls bouncing on her head as she darted across the fields chasing her friends. Perhaps it was the goddess’s tall frame, perhaps it was something else, but the little girl halted to a stop, amber eyes blinking back at Chrysanthe.

Her eyes were Kassandra’s, her hair and nose Chrysanthe’s and the freckles dusted across her face no doubt from both of her parents.

“Sapphira?” Chrysanthe whispered her chest tightening. It couldn’t be, the child had been but a few months when Chrysanthe had taken the midwife’s medicine.

“She has been waiting for longer than she realises.” Persephone motioned for the little girl to come closer.

“How? She was but a...when I…”

“This is _Elysium_ , my dear. The _peaceful_ afterlife. No one wants a crying baby in a place like this.” Persephone tutted.

Chrysanthe's heart hammered in her chest as the little girl drew to a stop in front of her. Eyes moonlike with disbelief. “Mater?”

Chrysanthe’s knees buckled and she allowed herself to sink to her knees in front of the girl whose face was a mirror of her parents’, and when she smiled Chrysanthe could swear she saw Kassandra smile back at her.

“Sapphira.” She pulled their daughter into her arms. How many nights had she dreamt of holding their daughter in her arms just like this, cradling her until she fell asleep, watching her grow and learn?

“Are you really here?” Her daughter’s voice asked, small and uncertain.

“I’m really here.”

Small arms wrapped themselves around her neck as Sapphira pressed herself closer. “You’re a little late for my birthday, mater,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry, moro mou.” She squeezed her daughter tighter. She was alive and well. And she was in Chrysanthe’s arms.

“It’s all right,” Sapphira untangled herself but Chrysanthe found it hard not to squeeze her small arms making sure she was really there. “Maybe it means we can celebrate tonight again?” A cheeky grin pulled at the little girl's mouth.

“I say you can celebrate every night this week. You’ve got quite some time to catch up after all.” Persephone winked at Sapphira who almost shook with excitement at the mention of a celebration every night. But then Sapphira’s gaze slid over to Chrysanthe and she froze. Like a child getting caught misbehaving and expecting a punishment.

“Only if mater allows it,” she said obediently.

“Are you afraid of me?” Chrysanthe asked gently, remembering she was a stranger to the little girl. Sapphira shook her head eyes glued to the ground. “What is it? You can tell me.” She tucked a golden lock behind Sapphira’s ear.

“Maia said if we don’t behave when our maters or paters find us they might not want us. Again.”

Guilt hit her like a tidal wave. “No,” she said forcefully curling her finger around Sapphira’s chin giving it a gentle tug until the amber eyes locked with hers. “I am here now, and I am never leaving you again.”  

**Ω**

_“I can’t believe it’s still got so much longer to go,” Kassandra whines as Chrysanthe pulls her up the last bit onto the cliff next to their house. “I’m starving already.”_

_“You’re going to be patient and wait for my stew or we’ll have to risk eating_ your _food.”_

_“What’s wrong with my cooking?” She protests brushing her knees off._

_“Nothing, except it could probably kill someone.” Chrysanthe turns towards her, eyes glittering. “Imagine having to tell Thaddeus and Lysandra you killed me with charred meat. How upset they would be.”_

_“How upset_ they _would be?” Kassandra scowls._

_“You would be upset should I fall off this cliff and perish?” Chrysanthe fishes indiscreetly._

_“I would be very upset if you perished right now.” She nods. “Who would finish the stew?”_

_The omega quirks an eyebrow, her lips pursing, arms folding across her chest._

_Kassandra leans closer. “And who would massage my…”_

_Scandalised laughter rips from Chrysanthe’s lips. “Is that all I am to you?!” She gives Kassandra a playful shove sending the alpha swaying backwards. When she sways forwards again she wraps her arms around Chrysanthe’s soft waist. “Shoulders. I was going to say shoulders.”_

_“No,” Chrysanthe laughs and shakes her head, “you were not.”_

_“I was not,” Kassandra chuckles in-between kisses revelling in the feeling of Chrysanthe in her arms, her lips laughing against Kassandra’s. Her laughter fills Kassandra with a light feeling in her chest, one she has not experienced before. It darts and tingles making her feel like she could do anything. It makes her feel safe. Something she has not felt in years. Not since Sparta. She cups the omega’s face allowing the sincerity that bleeds into her voice when she next speaks._

_“Who would be my home if you perished?”_

_Chrysanthe’s usually bright eyes go soft. “Silver tongue,” she tries to joke but her eyes grow damp and she quickly looks away to the dark clouds on the horizon._

_Kassandra kisses her cheek, tenderly pressing her lips against the smooth skin. Chrysanthe’s fingers dig in a little firmer into Kassandra’s hips almost as if she’s trying to keep Kassandra there, keep her from leaving._

_“Let’s go inside,” Kassandra murmurs against her cheek. “Before the storm gets here.”_

_“Not yet. I love the air before a thunderstorm. There is something untameable and dangerous but still beautiful about it.” Chrysanthe turns in Kassandra’s arms and leans into her._

_“Then we stay. Whatever you want, Kardia mou.” Kassandra pulls her closer and rests her cheek against Chrysanthe’s watching the storm grow and whip up large waves._

_“If I was to perish tonight bury me at the highest peak you can find.”_

_“The highest peak?” The air is growing cooler a mild wind starting to tug at their clothes._

_“So that I will always be able to see you from where I rest. See the storms before they hit.”_

Clouds gathered on the horizon, dark and ominous, the air prickly and thick around Kassandra. Behind them loomed what was once a grand city but now lay in ruins. Athens and her sickness, the Blood Fever and cultists alike, now poisoning the very heart of the city.

She glanced over at the body neatly wrapped in linen sheets and carefully covered by a waxed tarp. She should clean the body, prepare it for burial but they needed to put some distance between the Adrestia and Athens. It would not take long before Kleon and Deimos realised that they had escaped and Athenian and cultist ships would descend on the Adrestia.

Once they were out of reach she would prepare Chryssa for burial. She would cleanse her body. She would grieve. And she would curse the gods.

“Kassandra?” Barnabas said carefully, brushing her arms with fingers calloused from years of braving the Aegean and her frothing waters. “Where do you want to go?”

“We’re going to Malis.”

“Malis? What is in Malis?” His face wrinkled.

“Mount Olympus.”    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha...uhm..hey, let me know what you think.  
> It only takes a sec and it feeds my creativity and soul. <3


	10. As Time Goes By

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!  
> First THANK YOU ALL for the kudos and comments!  
> They really help me get more exposure to my fics and also, you know, absolutely makes my day.  
> I have some pretty cool news for you all.  
> You know how Ubisoft released "Story Creator Mode" where players get to create their own questlines and share them with fellow players?  
> Well...guess who's been working to bring you a Chryssandra DLC... *grin and points at self*  
> Who wants to meet Chryssa in Athens and spend the day together with her and Kass?  
> If that's you follow me on:
> 
> tumblr: inkedshepard.tumblr.com  
> twitter: @lmjuniper
> 
> To be notified the second it releases (most likley Friday 14th 8 pm CET/11 am PST/2 am PHT)
> 
> Glossary  
> Fengarí mou = my moon

**Euboea,  Maimakterion 406 BC**

Ever since she was a child she’d seen her mother wield the spear with remarkable precision and ease. As if it was an extension of herself. She had wished so badly back then, that she would grow up to be just like mater. And mother had trained her well.

“Always know where all your opponents are. Like a hunter, you must know your surroundings and don’t ever let your opponent get out of your vision. Most importantly...don’t bring a butter knife to a bear fight.”

Her mater had been an exceptional woman. Strong, and confident, completely unafraid at times and despite it all she had been soft-hearted and kind. More so than people expected someone like her mater to be. At least until that night on top of the cursed mountain. The mountain that had haunted her dreams for so many years, where her entire life fell apart into so many pieces it could never be put back together the way it had once been.

“Captain!” The lookout bellowed from where he clung to the top of the mast. “Mercenary ships in sight!”

“How many?” she used her hand to shield her eyes from the bright sun.

“Four! All massive!”

“Four?” Mercenary ships rarely came in twos even less so in threes. Fours? Unheard of!

“Wherever they’re going, the drachmae is going to flow,” the lieutenant with deep-brown skin and big expressive eyes said.

“Or…” She brushed her fingers against the spear of Leonidas. “It’s not about where they’re going for the drachmae, but which ship is safeguarding it.”

“Huh.” The lieutenant let out a scoff. “That would explain the four ships. Four!”

“Captain?” Diokles dropped the last bit from the mast landing with a hard thud on the deck. “What do you want to do?”

“Four ships against one _measly_ ship?” She grinned, her pulse quickening in anticipation as she gripped the spear. She raised her arm into the air, the spear’s weight familiar and reassuring in her hand. “Ready the Gorgophone!” she bellowed letting her voice carry across the deck, riling the crewmen into battle readiness.

Her mater may have faded into a bleak memory of the woman, the alpha, she once was, but she had been right: Phoibe was a good sailor. But more than anything, she was a great pirate.

**Ω**

**Elysium**

Chrysanthe sat on the soft, green grass her back leaning against a tree trunk, the thick canopy shielding her from the hot sun. Her skin had paled once she'd stepped into Elysium and her golden locks cascaded across her shoulders just like it had back on Kephallonia. She marvelled at seeing herself whenever she saw her own reflection.  As if it was a dream. Too good to be true.

Perhaps it was. Though they had already spent the night before getting to know each other Chrysanthe still couldn’t believe it. An odd mixture of guilt and happiness filling her chest as Sapphira showed her around Elysium. The fields where she played with her friends, the small school she attended, and the house she had waited to move into when one of her parents arrived. She showed Chrysanthe around with the excitement only a child could. Holding Chrysanthe’s hand hard in hers, not once letting go. And when they finally reached the agora and Sapphira’s eyes were growing glossy with tiredness Chrysanthe lifted the small girl up on her hip, walking around the small stalls as Sapphira’s breathing slowed until she’d fallen asleep in the omega’s arms.

Chrysanthe had walked them back to their house and put Sapphira to bed for the first time. She had stayed up all night watching the little girl sleep. Afraid that if she fell asleep she would wake up and it would all have been a dream. A beautiful, cruel dream. Like the ones she had of Kassandra every night when she first arrived in Korinthia. She sat next to the small bed stroking their daughter’s blonde hair and freckled cheeks, humming Kassandra’s song. How she wished her alpha could be with them. How long would she have to wait before Kassandra showed up in Elysium? For she had no doubt in her mind that when the alpha’s end came, this was where she would go.   

“Mater,” Sapphira said pushing another stick into the ground where she sat between Chrysanthe's legs building a small fort from sticks. Her hair, just as fair as Chrysanthe’s, had been braided and arranged into a neat hairstyle. “Why did you name me Sapphira? Blasios says it’s a weird name.”

 _Because Blasios is such a pleasant name_. Chrysanthe tried to keep the frown off her face, instead, she leaned forward kissing the side of Sapphira’s forehead. “Do you know what a sapphire is?”

The little girl shook her head but leaned into Chrysanthe, tiny fingers playing with the omega’s curls.

The day she had decided that there was no other way than to drink the poison Chrysanthe had gone to the shrine of Eileithyia to make offerings and pray for her child. Selene had been there, as always, kind, warm and understanding. The Beta had asked if Chrysanthe had perhaps thought of a name so that the child would not have to go into the underworld unnamed. So that it would know it was loved.

Chrysanthe had nodded. Yes, there was a name. Sapphira. Selene hadn’t asked why, had only murmured a small prayer placing a few items on the altar. A small olive branch for a boy, and a garland of wool for a girl.

Tilting her head she looked at Sapphira. “I named you after a rare stone. So rare kings and queens wear them around their necks for protection. It is rare and priceless.”

“Like a treasure?” A smile tugged at Sapphira’s lips.

“ _Just_ like a treasure, koukla mou,” she smiled, “and even though I had no choice but to give you up...you are the most beautiful and precious thing we ever created your mater and I.”

“Mater...why…” Sapphira picked at Chrysanthe’s peplos gaze locked on the thin linen fabric.

Sliding her finger under the small chin she stroked Sapphira’s cheek with her thumb lifting her face so that her amber eyes met Chrysanthe’s. “It’s all right, you can ask me.”

“Why didn’t you want me?” Her small face fell, the corners of her mouth tugging downwards as she averted her eyes once more.

“I _always_ wanted you. Look at me,” she tilted her head to catch Sapphira’s eyes, “but there were complications. People who wanted different things for me, that I had no say in. They would have done bad things to your mater and me if I hadn’t obeyed them. I could have lived with that but if I gave birth to you and they hurt you. I don’t know what I would do…”

“You were protecting me?”

“I was trying to...keep the people I love safe.”

“Is mater safe now?”

Chrysanthe exhaled, her breath shaky and she pulled Sapphira closer pressing her lips against the soft hair. “I hope so.”

“Were you happy together?” Sapphira asked almost before Chrysanthe had time to finish her sentence. Chrysanthe smiled.

Like a typical child her age, Sapphira had so many questions and she had waited longer than most children to ask them.

“Were we happy?” Chrysanthe let out a wistful sigh. Had she and Kassandra been happy together? Truly happy or was it just a romanticised memory of times better than Korinthia?

Chrysanthe almost laughed where she sat. At her own questions. Though their life together on Kephallonia had been much too short, life having forced them apart, it had been...she rubbed her fingers against the spot below her collarbones, the one that had always ached a little whenever she thought of her time on Kephallonia and Kassandra.

There had been times when Chrysanthe wished she’d never met the enigmatic alpha, that she had never been given a taste of what love, what _happiness_ felt like. What passion felt like. There had been disagreements, petty fights and misunderstandings. But her world had never been so colourful, she’d never felt so alive, so _free_ as when she had been with Kassandra. Even Elysium’s beauty paled in comparison to their life together.

“Yes, we were very happy. She made me happy. She gave me _you_.”

Sapphira beamed and she sat up a little straighter. “I’m happy you’re here, mater.”

“Me too.”

“And when mater comes here, we can be a family?”

“I hope so.” She smiled. Last time they’d spoken Kassandra had been so angry with her. Had hated her. And then Chrysanthe had managed to get herself killed. When Kassandra arrived at Elysium would the alpha even want to see Chrysanthe again?

“And little brother, Xanthippus, can live with us?” Sapphira’s eyes glittered with excitement.

“Xanthippus? How did you know?” Chrysanthe frowned her voice sounding a little harder than intended. It had only been a day and despite wanting to see her son again she did _not_ want to see the general.

“All children play together in the fields. His pater doesn’t like me much, but I don’t care. He can’t stop me from playing with my little brother,” Sapphira stated with a shrug and frown that rivalled that of her alpha mater.

Chrysanthe laughed. “No I don’t suppose anyone could, you’re too much like your mater. But how did you know?”

“Persephone told the angry man...who told...little brother…” Sapphira drawled and Chrysanthe could see her mind trying to piece together the chain of events. “And Xanthippus told me.”

Chrysanthe let out a heavy sigh. It was just like Perikles to not think about anything else than his own needs. He shouldn’t have told Xanthippus.

“Well, how about you and I go see Xanthippus in few days time?” A gentle breeze tugged at Chrysanthe's hair pulling a lock from her braid and she brushed it from her face as a man appeared by the edge of the hill.

She squinted in dismay at the shape as it drew nearer. Tall, with short grey hair and familiar eyes. Perikles.

**Ω**

**Euboea,  Maimakterion 406 BC**

The first clue that something wasn’t right—besides the fact that four ships sailed together—should have been the fact that all four mercenaries, despite flying different colours, sported the same unmistakable decoration on their sails. A most hideous face. One Phoibe thought looked vaguely familiar. Mouth wide open, eyes leaking tears but however much she thought about it she couldn’t place the design.

Phoibe looked up at the debris of splintered wood bobbing lazily in the water. Other than the churning of the dark waters as it swallowed the remains of the last ship, one couldn’t tell a battle had taken place only moments ago.  

The second clue she should have picked up on was how three of the four ships all turned to fight the Gorgophone letting the fourth galley pick up speed and make its escape. It was, of course, her plan all along, to smoke out the ship carrying the drachmae. But she hadn't expected the others to line up like a blockade in front of them, blocking their path to the fleeing ship. Luckily Phoibe had been watching when Kassandra had taken out the ships from Paros blocking the Naxians from leaving the island. She and grand mater had watched from the patio overlooking the waters between the two islands as the Adrestia raced towards the blockade, slicing through the waves. She was a smaller galley but she was fast. Just like the Gorgophone.

“Faster!” Phoibe had bellowed her voice carrying across the deck.

Ptolema, her strongest lieutenant, walked across the ship slamming her fist into her palm her voice bursting out a war song. The crew, brave and strong sang its reply with each stroke of the oars that had brought them closer to the ships.

“Oh…” Diokles groaned his fingers digging into the thick wooden railing in front of them. “I’m not so sure about this, Captain.”

“Why the doubt, Diokles?”

“Because there’s _four_ of them, Phoibe,” the man she had met and befriended many years ago snarled. “And even if we sink two, what about the other two? Their marines will surely take us out with hails of arrows.”

“Logic, Diokles?” She scowled. “You’re no fun.”

“Not when death is imminent,” he hissed through his teeth. She laughed. Her friend had always had a flair for the dramatic.

“Don’t worry so much, it’s going to work.” The Adrestia had been a much smaller ship and she had pulled off feats _almost_ as great as the Gorgophone. She grinned. The winds were in her favour. And so too were the waves and the gods. Besides, Phoibe had already made her decision. There had been no other way than to follow through.

 _Never second guess your decision. Once it’s been made you stick to it. Don’t doubt yourself. You can do anything._ Her mother’s voice whispered in her head.

Phoibe dragged her gaze towards the shore where a handful of marines and rowers stumbled out of the water. They had fought, with confidence at first, then desperation, until the ship was sinking, the Aegean’s waters pulling them all into her bottomless depths.

 _Fight not with anger or rage but with calm determination and you will be the last one standing._ Her mater had berated her during their training sessions. _Perhaps_ , Phoibe thought to herself, _these men could have learnt a thing or two from her mater._

Kassandra, the woman who had raised her after Athens. After Phoibe’s time in the dungeons, after...Aspasia. She had been just a child back then, she hadn’t understood what happened every time Aspasia left. Now she understood very well what the woman had gone through. Phoibe closed her eyes momentarily. Now she knew why Aspasia—why Chrysanthe—had suffered Kleon’s torture. Why she had died. For _whom_ she had died.

Something had changed in Kassandra the night they carried the woman who Phoibe had thought was Perikles’s wife to the bottom of Mount Olympus. It wasn’t until many years later she learned from Roxana that her mater and Aspasia had once been lovers. Had been bondmates.  

Kassandra had carried her bondmate the entire way from the harbour to where she built the burial pyre. Phoibe and the rest of the crew had walked solemnly behind Kassandra, and the mercenary they met in the dungeon—Kallistê—had joined them, carrying Phoibe when she got too tired to walk.

After the fire had died the rest of them returned to the Adrestia while her mater began the arduous task of carrying Aspasia’s ashes to the very top of the mountain. Barnabas had begged her not challenge the gods and draw their ire. Of course, her mater hadn’t listened. She rarely did. Perhaps that was why Kassandra blamed herself for everything that happened after that day.

“What does it mean?” Ptolema asked with a frown, hands resting on her hips where she and Diokles stood next to Phoibe.

They were both filthy, blood staining the dark-skinned lieutenant's body. She was short, much shorter than Phoibe but she was strong and fast, the fiercest warrior Phoibe had ever met. She let her eyes linger a little longer making sure her lieutenant wasn’t seriously injured. When she was satisfied she lowered her gaze to the scroll that lay unrolled on the railing before her. She ran her fingers across the unfolded scroll. A triangle and familiar symbols had been carefully sketched in detail on the coarse parchment. Atlantis.

She lifted her gaze towards the towering mountains on the horizon. “It means we’re going to see my mater.”

**Ω**

**Mount Olympus,** **Maimakterion 406 BC**

Kassandra stood on the cliff overlooking the bay of Malis as the sun set somewhere behind Makedonia. She had once met an omega and her father there. It was a long time ago now but she still thought of them from time to time. Father and daughter running together, fighting for their lives, for their survival. Though Kassandra admired Darius she could never understand why he would risk his daughter’s life. Put her through the isolation of living in the shadows. Never connecting with anyone. She could never do that to her child.

She eyed the large galley that lay anchored in the bay. She could not see its details but she recognised the sail as it came gliding into the bay. The deep red colour and an eagle decorating the large sails. Phoibe.

She sighed and turned towards the cave as a shrill cry cut through the night. Ikaros was back from his flight. Just in time for the soft footsteps that crept up the path. Kassandra would have smiled if she remembered how. Instead, she held her arm out for Ikaros to land on.

“There’s deer cooking on the fire. Help yourselves.” She paused stopping briefly to catch a glimpse of the grown-up woman rising to her feet from the shadows. Tall with sharp eyes and thick brown hair tied into a braid slung across her shoulder. How long had it been since Kassandra had seen Phoibe? The girl she had once thought of as her own. Ten years? No longer.

Her chest twinged but it was better this way. Phoibe would be safer this way. Kassandra couldn’t keep anyone safe. Not Alexios, not Chryssa, or Myrrine. Everyone who got close to her died.

Alexios had fallen from Mount Taygetos to his death, Kassandra herself following closely after. And like a coward, she had run at the sound of footsteps. If she hadn’t then maybe she would have seen that Alexios was still alive. That he could still be saved. Instead, he had fallen into the clutches of the cult and turned into a mad man. One that couldn’t be saved no matter how much she tried. And she’d been foolish not to see it. It wasn’t until his sword dug itself into her mater’s side that Kassandra knew she had truly failed. _You can’t keep anyone safe_. She could still hear the pride in his voice, the malicious joy, knowing he had tricked her. Knowing he was taking someone she loved from her.

But as much as she had hated him as she drove her spear through his neck, she hated herself more. Deimos was right. She couldn’t keep anyone safe. They would always be at risk with her. Walking away was the right thing to do.

“Eat. Rest. Then get off my mountain.” She resumed her walking when the voice cut through the darkening evening. Determined and unyielding. Angry.

“No.”

Of course, Phoibe would protest. Just like she had when Kassandra had dropped her off with Daphnae, the leader of the Daughters of Artemis. The Daughters would keep Phoibe safe but the young girl would have none of it. She argued her case, even tried to follow until Kassandra bellowed for her to leave her alone, to stop following her.

Phoibe had looked as if Kassandra had shoved the spear of Leonidas through her chest. Then the young girl had spun on her heels fleeing into the forest.

Daphnae’s green eyes had locked with Kassandra’s. And though the leader was stoic and proud, her eyes were sad perhaps understanding all too well the need to protect her loved one by walking away. Kassandra had loosened the spear from her back and put it in Daphnae’s hand, the skin familiar underneath her palm. From nights spent together next to a campfire before Kassandra had hunted down the last legendary animal. Daphnae had told Kassandra never to return, to stop the quest of hunting the animals. When Kassandra had asked why Daphnae’s voice had broken as told her she did not wish to see Kassandra again. That Kassandra had overstepped her boundaries by taking Daphnae’s virtue.

She had known then there was something Daphnae wasn’t telling her but Kassandra was tired and weary of losing people. Of trying to mend something that would never be whole again. And so she had left to never return again. But then Mount Taygetos and its curse had forced her to seek out the Daughter once more.   

She let her hands linger on Daphnae’s a little too long and the huntress pressed her forehead against her chin.

“It was never supposed to be like this,” Daphnae had whispered. “You were only supposed to be my challenger.”

“I know,” Kassandra had murmured against the Daughter’s forehead. “Keep her safe.”

And Daphnae had. She had kept Phoibe safe for as long as she could. She had taught her about the ways of the Daughters, how to live like one, how to fight like one. But it was no surprise to either of them when Phoibe left to seek her own adventures.

“I know you don’t care about me, _mater_.” Phoibe’s words cut through her like finely oiled and sharpened swords. “But you care about Aletheia. About Atlantis.”

Kassandra stopped dead in her tracks, standing motionless. Phoibe knew about the staff, about her immortality. She knew everything about Atlantis and the burden placed on Kassandra’s shoulders.

“Yes, _Keeper_. Aletheia requires your presence.”

She turned then facing her daughter for the first time in over ten years. Brown eyes locked with hers, flinty and angry but it didn’t escape Kassandra’s keen eyes how Phoibe’s breath seemed to hitch in her throat when their eyes met.

Phoibe wore a leather chest piece, muscled arms clad in brass gauntlets one hand clutching an all too familiar spear. A sword was strapped to her hip and the belt around her waist sported well-oiled leather straps and a brass buckle. She was beautiful. Fearless.

Kassandra almost stepped towards the younger woman wanting to reach out for her. But she stopped herself. Caring about others got them sent to Elysium.

“I think Aletheia can wait.” A scroll sailed through the air towards her and Kassandra barely had time to catch it.

“Not if the cult of Kosmos is as close to breaching Atlantis as that suggests.”

Kassandra opened the scroll eyeing it. A sketch of a pyramid, and Atlantis symbols. It meant nothing. It proved nothing. “Whatever this is, it’s not my problem.” She turned to walk away.

“My mater taught me to fight for what is right. She fought for me, for everyone who couldn’t fend for themselves.” Phoibe walked up towards her, face set spear held out in her hands. Like a peace offering. “ _You_ taught me.”

Kassandra blinked at the young woman. Headstrong, and confident yet her eyes big and round like all those years ago on Kephallonia. _I’m all packed! I’m coming with you._ Her jaws clenched. Relationships of any kind was a curse. Caring was dangerous.

Phoibe shook her head her eyes turning dark as she dropped the spear to the ground. It landed with a loud clatter.

“You may not care anymore, mater. But I do and I _will_ stop them. With or without you.” Phoibe turned around walking towards another woman standing by the edge of the camp. Shorter, but bulkier, like a battering ram, though her eyes were soft as they looked at Phoibe. It was a look Kassandra recognised well. The look of someone seeing Aphrodite in the flesh.  

She sighed and closed her eyes. Aletheia had tried to talk to her but Kassandra had ignored the Isu’s pleas to come see her. To help prepare the staff for the Heir of Memories. The whispers had started moons ago. But just like she did with the outside world, Kassandra paid no attention to the Isu. Aletheia, however, had become more insistent over the past few moons and she had been hard to block out. _Keeper, come see me. Keeper, the Heir of Memories needs you._ If she didn’t go back to Atlantis the Isu would never leave her alone.

“Wait.” She watched Phoibe halt and turn to face her. “If you have a boat I know where to go.”

“A boat?” Phoibe quirked an eyebrow. “I have a _ship_.”       

 

**Ω**

**Elysium**

The snarl that grew in her throat at the sight of the general was that of a threatened omega. If Perikles thought he had seen an omega with her child under threat before he was sorely mistaken.

He almost drew to a stop, her scent no doubt warning him to stay away. That she would not hesitate to defend her child. But he only slowed, grey eyes sliding to Sapphira who was hiding behind her then back to Aspasia, as he continued his walk. Confident. Unapologetic. As if he had the right to simply be there. To interfere with their lives.

She hated him. With every fibre of her being. She _hated_ him. For the years spent like his trophy. For treating her like a commodity. For making her feel cheap. For the times he ignored her objections. For turning her into Aspasia even in the afterlife. She could smell him now and his scent was off-putting like the putrid waters in Athens poorer districts.

“Why are you here?” She asked when he was close enough to hear her.

“Aspasia, I...”

“That is _not_ my name.”

“It is the name of my consort.”

She narrowed her eyes at him taking a step towards him drawing to her full height. She was still two heads shorter than him but he shrank before her. “My _name_ is Chrysanthe. And you are _not_ my master anymore, Perikles. And you will neither call me your consort nor Aspasia, do I make myself clear?”

His eyes flickered and he gave a small nod holding his hands up in the air as if to placate her. “Perfectly.”

“Then what do you want? Why are you here? Speak now or leave.”

His features wrinkled. “You are in Elysium and you still haven’t come to see Xanthippus. Surely you must know he is here. Instead, I find you here. With...”

“With?” She bared her teeth at him in warning and he swallowed thickly.

“I only meant that you have a _son_. With me, Aspasia.”

She balled her hands into fists where she stood.

“Isn’t it tiring with men who simply can’t listen?” the oddly distorted voice said as Persephone strode from the path out onto the hill, the yellow dog trotting next to her like a loyal companion.

“Persephone,” the general said, his voice sounding surprised as he bowed his head.

“Do you know what I don’t like?” Something dangerous had filtered into the goddess’s voice. “When I tell people to do something but instead of listening they do the opposite hoping I’ll never find out.”

“I apologise, my queen.”

“When I appointed you to speak for me to the humans, I expected you, an Athenian general to abide by my rules.” A wrinkle of annoyance pulled at her brows.

“My queen I am sorry for overstepping but when I heard that my...that As— Chrysanthe?” He lifted his gaze towards Chrysanthe where she stood. “That Chrysanthe was here I was hoping we could be a family again.”

Persephone sighed throwing a hand up in the air. “I don’t care much for the little games you humans play, but indulge me, General. How was your...son, conceived?”

Shame flashed across Perikles’s features his eyes looking away from Chrysanthe. They both knew what had happened the night Aspasia had become pregnant. That it was not out of love but out of jealousy Xanthippus had been conceived. To prove to Kleon who really owned Aspasia.

“Persephone.” She pulled Sapphira close covering her ears. “Please, there is no need for my daughter to hear any of this.”

“Persephone, I just wanted to talk to my—” he let out a frustrated sigh cutting himself off again, “to _her_ about life here. How it could be.”

“Yes, well it’s too bad but Chrysanthe here has somewhere she needs to be.”

Perikles’s forehead wrinkled. “She does?”

“I do?”

“Yes.” The goddess’s lips curled. “I made someone a promise.”

“Who?” Chrysanthe frowned at the tall goddess.

“Me.”

Her heart stopped for the briefest of moments as the voice, the scent reached her.

“Does _nobody_ here respect my wishes anymore?” Persephone threw her hands up in the air before folding her arms across her chest turning around to glare in the direction the voice had come from.

Bright and warm sunlight dipped across the curve of the hill bringing a soft almost yellow glow with it as the figure stepped into the light. Tall with broad shoulders, chin tilted upwards in pride and dark eyes.

 _Kassandra._ Why was the alpha already in Elysium? Kassandra’s piercing eyes watched her as the alpha strode towards her, slowly almost hesitantly.

The alpha pulled to a stop a good few steps away from her the muscles in Kassandra’s jaw clenching. Was she angry? Chrysanthe felt her chest shivering. With longing, with dread that Kassandra had still not forgiven her despite the way the alpha had looked at Chrysanthe in the dungeons.

“Kassandra?” she whispered her breath shaky. Why wasn’t she saying anything? Just staring at her with those dark orbs. “Please say something.”

“You’re blonde again.”

Chrysanthe laughed, tears spilling from her eyes. Of course, Kassandra would say something like that. Something that would make the omega laugh. Though her amber eyes were still two pools of swirling sorrow the corners of her lips curled ever so slightly. Then carefully Kassandra took a step closer reaching out for Chrysanthe. Her fingers brushed against the omega’s cheek and Chrysanthe closed her eyes, leaning into the calloused palm.

When she opened them again Kassandra’s eyes were damp and downturned. “By the gods, I wish you were real.” Her lip quivered ever so slightly. “And not another simulation.”

“I am not a…” Chrysanthe scowled. “Whatever that is. I may be dead but I am real.”

Kassandra frowned. “You can't be real.”

“Darling, we don’t all eternity,” Persephone stopped herself, “actually _I_ do. And so do they, but you don’t. She’s real. He’s real and…” The goddess tilted her head towards Sapphira hiding behind Chrysanthe. “So is _she._ ”

The alpha shook her head, her gaze darting back and forth between Chrysanthe and Sapphira. Her eyes, that Chrysanthe knew so well, going from hope to despair back to hope.

“Fengarí mou,” she murmured stepping into the alpha’s sphere letting her scent reassure the alpha. Kassandra blinked her fingers curling themselves around the back of Chrysanthe’s head, her thumb stroking the side of the omega’s face.

“You are real. No one else knew that name,” Kassandra said in wonder perhaps more to herself than anyone else. The alpha’s free arm wrapped itself around her waist pulling her closer as Kassandra pressed her lips against hers.

Chrysanthe forgot how to breathe, forgot everything around them, Kassandra the only one she was aware of. Eight years. Almost nine, that was how long she had dreamt of this moment of being in Kassandra’s arms again, of feeling the alpha’s lips caress her own allowing Chrysanthe to melt into her. Her lips tasted sweet and Chrysanthe pressed her hands against the white armour, her omega singing at the mere presence of her alpha.

“Kardia mou,” Kassandra murmured when she broke the kiss, her forehead pressed against Chrysanthe’s. “I have missed you _so_ much.”

She looked at the wet, freckled cheeks wiping the tears away with her thumbs. “My love,” she whispered for the first time since she’d left Kephallonia all those years ago, “it’s only been a day. Why are you here already?”

She could sense the change in Kassandra before she saw her face. Saw the deep frown and look of confusion.  “What do you mean ‘a day’?”

“I died yesterday.”

“No, Chryssa.” Kassandra shook her head. “You died _twenty years_ ago.”

Chrysanthe blinked. “But I…”

A sigh from somewhere behind them could be heard and she felt Kassandra's grip tighten on her hips as she lifted her head to look at the blonde goddess.

“That's because time works differently here.” Persephone plucked a petal from the white fabric of her peplos.

"What do you mean?" Kassandra asked and released her. Chrysanthe's body protested at the sudden loss of contact with the alpha's body.

Persephone, completely unperturbed, walked to stand only inches away from Kassandra, cunning eyes sparkling at the shorter woman before her. “This is paradise, can you imagine how disappointed the humans would be if the had to wait years to see their beloved ones. Instead,” she snapped her fingers, “a few days, weeks go by and then their loved ones are here.”

“Are you saying while I spend time out here, my daughter outside will age twenty years or more?”

_Her daughter?_

“Don’t be daft, it only works for the dead. And you are not.” Persephone motioned towards Sapphira. “That’s why she hasn’t been waiting for too long.”

Kassandra’s gaze that dropped to Sapphira and Chrysanthe froze. Of all the things she wished she had told Kassandra before she died, Sapphira was one of them. “I can explain, Kassandra. I—”

Without a word, Kassandra took her hand in hers and stepped closer to the little girl standing behind them looking at them with big round eyes. Sitting down on her haunches the alpha reached out to pull a blonde lock from Sapphira’s braid.

“You have your mater’s hair,” she murmured, “and my eyes.”

“Mater?” Sapphira’s eyes grew even rounder her mouth falling open.

Kassandra’s face split up in an uncertain almost shy smile. “I think so?”

“Yes, Sapphoula, this is your mater.” Chrysanthe gave a side nod in Kassandra’s direction prompting the little girl to hug her alpha mater.

“Mater?” She whispered wrapping her arms around Kassandra’s neck.

 _She is mine?_ Kassandra mouthed at Chrysanthe who nodded digging her teeth into her smile as she watched the alpha hug their daughter for the first time. Pride and wonder washing off the alpha.

“What is your name?”

“Sapphira.”

Kassandra’s gaze lifted towards Chrysanthe eyes glittering with curiosity. “It’s a beautiful name.”     

Sapphira nodded then leaned away from her alpha mater. “Why are you so sad?”

The alpha didn’t reply only hugged her daughter and buried her face at her neck. Her shoulders shook and Chrysanthe dropped to her knees and leaned into the alpha, pressing her lips against the scarred neck lending Kassandra some of her own strength.

Persephone had said Kassandra wasn’t dead, so whatever she was doing in Elysium was important, but it also meant she would have to leave. That she would need to have the strength to leave. But the Kassandra that knelt beside her had no strength left. Whatever had happened during those twenty years since Chrysanthe had died had changed the alpha irrevocably. In ways Chrysanthe was scared to find out.

“I am sad,” Kassandra finally said, “because I failed. To protect the world.”  She shook her head, “but most importantly...I failed to protect my family.”

“You did not fail, agapi mou.” She stroked the side of Kassandra’s head.

“She did.” Persephone cut in earning herself a glare from Chrysanthe and Sapphira. “And now all of Atlantis is at peril. But I think I know just how to fix your mess.”

Kassandra looked up at the goddess, though the fire that usually shone in her eyes—Chrysanthe noted—was gone. “And how are you to do that?”

“By sending you back.” Purple eyes locked with Chrysanthe’s. “That's where it went wrong.”

“No!” She slashed with her hand through the air. She was not going to leave her daughter. _Never_ again. “I am not leaving my daughter. Or my son. I _won’t._ ”

“You’d rather your world, your humans, turn Atlantis upside down? That it tears itself apart with the knowledge of Atlantis? If Kassandra fails, the world you once lived in will perish and so will Atlantis and Elysium, and everyone you love in it.”

Chrysanthe looked at Kassandra pleading with her, begging the alpha not to ask her to leave. “Please…”

“I can’t undo my failure, Persephone. Do not punish Chryssa and our daughter for it. I will go back, and I will—”

A small hand tugged at Kassandra’s hand silencing her. “Mater, it’s the _world_.” Sapphira looked at her with a serious expression then walked over to Chrysanthe climbing into her lap. “I love you, but you _have_ to go.”

“I will _not._ ” Chrysanthe wrapped her arms around Sapphira, Kassandra placing her big hand on their daughter's head. Their _brave_ daughter’s head, stroking it gently.

“But if you don’t, mater will be sad and so will the world. I won’t even notice you’re gone.” She snapped her tiny fingers mimicking Persephone drawing teary laughter from Chrysanthe who took the small hand in hers kissing it.

“Please mater, I’ll still be here and I will just see you tomorrow again.” Sapphira smiled conspiratorially. “Plus I have my little brother. _And_ Persephone will let us play in her gardens.”

“I will—” the goddess began to protest but fell silent at the glare from both an alpha mater and an omega mater. “You keep Elysium safe and you have my word, Sapphira and her brother will both be safe.”

“And she won’t miss us for more than a day?” Kassandra asked as Chrysanthe held her daughter close not wanting to let her go again.

Annoyance flashed across the goddess’s face. “It’s not just a few things you’re asking for, is it?”

“Neither are you,” Kassandra snarled.

“Fine.” Persephone sighed then held her hand out to Sapphira.

“Se agapo, Kardia mou.” Kissing Sapphira until the little girl squirmed with giggles Chrysanthe finally let her daughter go. Kassandra hugged her, kissed her then motioned for her to follow the tall goddess.

“Only until tomorrow,” the alpha promised. “Until then be  nice to auntie Persephone.”

Persephone tensed and it drew a wicked grin from their daughter. One that mirrored her alpha mater’s. One day’s worth of wait for Sapphira but how many for her and Kassandra?

“Remember, bringing someone back from death is a tricky thing. It might take some time or have odd side effects.” Persephone warned.

Side effects?

“And Kassandra,” Persephone called over her shoulder, Sapphira waving back at them, “ _don’t_ mess this up again.”

The alpha grinned but her eyes were serious and she gave a curt nod. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” she replied before turning back just in time for the goddess’s voice to ring out again.

“Perikles, make yourself useful at the Devoted Sanctuary.”

Turning around Kassandra’s eyes softened, a small wrinkle of insecurity forming between her brows. It was the same face she’d had when they had reached Kausos after being trapped in the cave. When Chrysanthe had told her she did not wish to repeat the evening's event.

“Are you all right?” The alpha asked carefully. Chrysanthe bit her cheek to keep the corners of her mouth from twitching as she shook her head. She had not cried in front of anyone in more years than she could remember. The last thing she wanted to do was burst into tears in front Kassandra.

“Come here,” Kassandra murmured and Chrysanthe leaned into her hiding her face at the alpha's chest. Kassandra's strong arms pulled her closer, holding her protectively.

“I can't believe I'm leaving her. _Again_.” Her voice quivered.

Stroking her hair Kassandra pressed her lips against the side of her head. “Just like last time you're doing it for her. Sod the malákas world and her people. This is for Sapphira.”

She nodded slowly breathing through her mouth. Then paused. Just like last time? What did Kassandra mean by that? Did she know? Though Kassandra had seemed overwhelmed and full of disbelief to see Sapphira the alpha had not seemed surprised or shocked.

“How did you know?”

“I went to see Agape all those years ago. A few days before you…” Kassandra’s voice trailed off. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there, I…”

“You didn’t know.” She slid her one hand onto Kassandra’s chest pressing her palm against the odd armour as if to feel the heart beating somewhere beneath it.

“I have missed you, Chryssa. And for twenty years I have mourned you. When I saw you here when I saw Sapphira...even if you were just a simulation, I don’t think I could leave. This would be enough.”

“I’m real but I could never let you stay here.”

Kassandra brushed her nose against her temple drawing her scent in fingers tangled in her blonde locks. “You left a hole in my chest that cannot be fixed.”

“Everything that is broken can be fixed.”

“Not everything,” Kassandra looked away from her. “I’ve made a mess of many things since…”

“Phoibe?”

Guilt washed across the alpha’s features and she shook her head. “It was for the better...she wasn’t safe with me, no one was.”

“Kassandra,” Chrysanthe pulled her face towards her own. “That little girl adores you, how could you think she would be safer without you?”

Something flashed in Kassandra’s eyes and she bit down on a smile. “That _little girl_ is twenty-eight now…”

Chrysanthe looked at the ground. _Twenty years._ She had been gone for twenty years, the thought almost absurd and for a self-absorbed heartbeat, Chrysanthe felt a pang of indignation that the world somehow kept going as if her demise meant nothing. “Has it really been that long?”

Kassandra nodded and opened her mouth to speak but whatever she was going to say Chrysanthe did not want to hear. Though it may have only been eight years for her, it had still been eight long years. Eight lonely years.

She pulled the alpha down for a kiss. Revelling in the feel of Kassandra’s lips against her own. In the softness of the alpha’s kisses and how her lips explored her, tasted her like they had all those years ago. Then the hands that held her close slid to her hips and with a soft nudge pulled Chrysanthe’s hips towards her. She found herself gasping into the kiss.

“Kassandra.” Her voice came out a husky whisper drawing a low growl from the alpha. “We should…” The alpha’s lips on her neck, on the sweet spot behind her ear, fogged her mind and she sighed pulling Kassandra closer. “We really should go…”

“I know,” Kassandra muttered, “but I don’t want to.”

“The sooner we leave, the sooner we can come back.” Chrysanthe dug her teeth into her lip. Perhaps it would keep her from wanting to kiss Kassandra again.

“Then let’s go.”

**Ω**

**The Aegean, Hekatombaion 426 BC**

She knelt by the waxed tarp eyes fixed on the pale, still face. It was still filthy from fleeing through the dungeons, caked blood covering one side of the bruised face. Her beautiful omega beaten and broken the thought of her pain unbearable to Kassandra where she knelt next to Chrysanthe.

“Mother of Earth I greet you,” she whispered then gently dabbed a wet cloth slowly cleaning the face. She kept cleaning the omega's battered face and rinsing the cloth until all the dirt was gone until there was no more blood. Until Chrysanthe looked like she was sleeping peacefully. She had to pause a few times to hide her face in her elbow breathing slowly through her mouth. Each time Odessa would bring a new bowl with water, set it down then gently squeeze Kassandra’s shoulder until the alpha took a deep breath and continued preparing Chrysanthe’s body.

It wasn’t until she removed the golden pectoral that she saw it. A small pocket on the inside of the fine fabrics of the chiton. Frowning she slid her fingers across it. A small pebble or a coin? She plucked the small item from the pocket. A sapphire hung from a silver chain. She closed her eyes squeezing the blue and golden stone hard in her hand. The sapphire pendant she’d given to Chryssa. _That way I’ll always be with you._

“I’m sorry.” She placed her palm on the neck just where Chrysanthe had loved to be touched. “I’m sorry, Kardia mou.” The faint beat of a pulse shot like electricity through her and she gasped jerking her hand away from the omega. Eyes darting across her face for any sign of life.

She shook her head and let out a heavy sigh. She must have imagined it but then she saw it, the faint flutter near Chrysanthe’s pulse point. “Chryssa?”

Pale lips parted as the omega sucked in a weak breath.

“Chryssa!” She crawled closer grabbing Chrysanthe’s face between her hands. Eyes fluttered behind closed eyelids and her chest rose in ragged, uneven breaths. “Melite!”

Quick footsteps slapped against the deck as their healer, a former Daughter, came running up towards Kassandra where she hovered above Chrysanthe’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“She’s alive,” she whispered as more crew crowded around them. Roxana having a protective arm around Phoibe.  

“We have to get her to a proper healer.” Melite looked up at her. “She’s barely hanging on. If we don’t get her to a healer she won’t make it.”

“With all the Athenian ships pursuing us we should find somewhere close,” Herodotus said kneeling down next to them with a thick blanket in his hand.

“Then we go to Keos. Xenia will keep her safe.”

“Keos is under Athenian rule. They’ll have more Athenian ships on their shores than even someone like Xenia can handle.” Herodotus's eyes wrinkled in thought.

“Then where do we—” stopped herself, lifting her gaze towards the horizon. “Then we go to Mykonos.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, hohohohohohoh...! *evil amused chuckle*  
> Nearly 8k words. What did you think?  
> And what do you think will happen now?  
> Please leave a comment below!


	11. Loving Ghosts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!  
> Thanks for all the lovely comments and feedback. Never doubt you're the ones who keep this fic going!  
> In the Odyssey book Kassandra tricks the Cyclops into thinking she shoved the eye up a goat's arse.  
> Then gave it to Phoibe, so I'm going with that in this fic. Also...I mean you KNOW this by now but this  
> is going to deviate a bit from canon because basically I just really dislike Thaletas.
> 
> Also, according to history Spartan men actually had long hair, not the hair we see in Odyssey. So that's what I'm going with.
> 
> Don't forget the Chryssandra companion DLC to this fic: https://assassinscreed.ubisoft.com/story-creator-mode/en-us/quest/5d025129b01ede4b14f990f5  
> Helpful thread: https://twitter.com/lmjuniper/status/1140346105101791232?s=19
> 
> Glossary:  
> Kline = the reclining sort of sofa thing they used in AG  
> Kardia mou = shouldn't y'all know this one by now? ;)
> 
> Time stamps:  
> Moon = day  
> Lunar phase = 29.53 days  
> Candleburns = hours  
> Candledrops = seconds  
> Floods = 6 months (maybe a year, I haven't made up my mind lol)
> 
> MASSIVE THANKS TO KOBUZERO for helping me brainstorm all my ideas and for helping with the promo art for this chapter.  
> She also has Kasspasia fics. Go give her a visit! She's amazing. <3

 

 

* * *

**Mykonos, Hekatombaion 426 BC**

“You dare show your face to me again? And when you do, you bring an _Athenian_ to my shores?” The omega’s dark eyes flashed with unbridled anger as she folded her arms across her chest. 

Kassandra knew turning up on Mykonos would cause controversy to say the least. She and Kyra had not parted on the best of terms and though Kyra had spoken her last words to Kassandra in anger, the alpha had no doubt Kyra really meant them. And Kyra was stubborn and not one to let go of a grudge lightly. Apparently not one to hear both sides of a story either. 

She bit down on the urge to remind Kyra that there were two sides to the story. This was not the time and Chrysanthe needed Kassandra to stay level headed. 

“Kyra, _please._  She’s badly wounded, I…”

“ _She_ is Perikles’s wife!” Of course Kyra would recognise Aspasia. The consort of Perikles, and to Kassandra, the most beautiful woman and omega in all of Hellas. Her alpha growled and snarled with jealousy at the mention of the late statesman.

“She is _not_ his wife.” 

“She is still Athenian and a threat to Mykonos. You know what I do to Athenians, what makes you think I won’t kill her?”

A growl ripped from her lips, low and menacing rumbling like thunder in her throat. “You can try…” Her grip of Chrysanthe tightened, her lips pulling back in an almost feral snarl. 

The guards behind Kyra instantly drew closer to the hot-headed omega, angling their spears at Kassandra. The dock grew as silent as the night, the heavy rain whipping across the dark the waters around them. Kyra’s dark hair, the same soft hair Kassandra had once run her fingers through, clung like dark tendrils to her cheekbones, her chin tilted upwards in pride. In defiance. In victory. She was the one with the upper hand and she knew it. Her decision would be life or death for Chrysanthe. Just like Kassandra’s had for Thaletas. 

“Look at her, Kyra, she is a threat to no one.”

A half-snort, half-laughter escaped Kyra’s lips. “She is Athenian. Those dogs will use any excuse to attack us. No. I will not risk my people for this…” She jutted her chin in Chrysanthe’s direction, her face wrinkled in disgust, “for this woman.”

“If you let a healer just look at her I will use the Adrestia to help keep Mykonos safe.”

“Like you kept Thaletas safe?” 

Kassandra’s mouth fell open, her defence failing her. Kassandra had only defended herself and spared the foolish Spartan’s life. She had done more than keep Thaletas safe.

“Leave this place. Now. Or my guards will have no choice but to escort you. I’m giving you this opportunity to live.”

“But you’re killing my—” she cut herself short. “If you only take her to a healer, I will leave and I will never return. You have my word.”

Kyra’s gaze dropped to the omega in Kassandra’s arms and a peculiar expression flashed across her face.

“You can have this,” Phoibe piped up from next to Kassandra, her tiny hand holding something up towards Kyra. An obsidian eye. The eye Kassandra had stolen from the Cyclops and pretended to shove up a goat’s rear. Of course, she hadn’t really. Only someone cruel would do that to an animal. But the Cyclops and his men had bought it and chased after it. Afterwards, she had given it to Phoibe to keep safe and, if she was ever in trouble, to sell it. But there she stood, arm stretched out, the obsidian eye resting in her palm.

“Phoibe, I told you to stay on the Adrestia. And you’re supposed to keep that safe in case you need it.”

Her button nose scrunched up. “You said to use it for an emergency. This is one. Aspasia needs help.” Her bottom lip quivered but she inhaled and scowled. 

“I know, but…” She glanced back at Kyra whose hands were on her hips, though her expression had softened. “You really shouldn’t give your obsidian eye away. I will fix this somehow. I promise, all right?”

Phoibe shook her head, her mouth a thin line before looking up at Kyra. “I will give you my obsidian eye and it’s more valuable than _anything_. If you don’t take it, you’re either not very clever,” this drew a bemused smile from the omega who quirked an eyebrow, “or you’re just _mean_.”

“Well…” Kyra drawled then turned her face towards Kassandra’s. “I can see who you’ve been hanging around with.” 

“I would _never_ be so foolish as to imply you’re stupid.” Kassandra tilted her head forwards and grimaced. Kyra’s gaze dropped towards Chrysanthe.

“You’ve called me many things, but that certainly doesn’t sound like you.” Kyra’s eyes locked with Kassandra’s. A memory of them on the beach, Kyra straddling her, Kassandra’s hands roaming her body as she praised the wondrous feeling of Kyra around her, flitted through her mind. 

She cleared her throat. “Right. Ahem…”

“But I tell you what,” Kyra crouched down in front of Phoibe a gentle smile pulling at her lips. “I like you, you keep your obsidian. And for _you,_ I will let this woman stay.” 

Phoibe, determined and serious, pressed the eye into Kyra’s hand. “I don’t need this anymore. I’m with Kassandra and Aspasia. And Roxana is training me to fight. And Aspasia says when a deal is sealed you have to honour your end of the bargain.” 

“Then I will make _you_ a deal,” Kyra slipped the eye into her pocket, “I will keep this safe for you. If you should ever need it, return to me.”

Kassandra followed the omega with her gaze as she rose to stand up again. “Thank you, Kyra.”

Kyra didn’t reply only gave Kassandra one last hard stare then spun on her heels and walked off the dock. Kassandra watched the omega’s retreat until she was so far away she became part of the dark night around them. 

“I will take you to the healer after that you will meet with the Archon,” Praxos, Kyra’s large second-in-command, said motioning with a meaty hand towards the centre of the hamlet. 

She frowned. It had only been half a lunar phase and Mykonos had already decided on a new Archon? It was to be expected, of course, an island needed leadership. It needed someone strong to lead. Someone with a mind that understood, not only battle but the need for negotiations. Which was why Kassandra would never make a good leader. She was a good misthios, a great fighter, but she had no qualms about her skills when it came to diplomacy. 

Last time she tried to negotiate with someone she ended up knocking the poor medic out. In her defence, Hippokrates really needed those notes and the man was trying to squeeze her for an outrageous sum of drachmae. 

“The Archon?”

“Did I stutter?” Came the reply from the former rebel. She scowled at his back. Most of the rebels had thought her a hero, for taking down Podarkes, now she was the vermin beneath their sandals. 

She sighed where she and Phoibe trailed after him. It would do her no good to get into an argument. Not now. She pulled Chrysanthe closer, her pale skin clammy and wet from the rain. “You’re going to be fine, Chryssoula mou,” she murmured. 

Chrysanthe had died in her arms. Kassandra had seen the life bleed away from Chrysanthe, felt the omega slip away from her and yet by some miracle, Chrysanthe was alive and breathing in Kassandra’s arms. She would not lose her again. She would travel to the underworld, cross the river of Styx if she had to. She would even make a deal with Hades himself if that was what it took, anything to get Chrysanthe back. 

They hurried through the wet streets, water splashing as their feet slapped hard against the ground. Turning a sharp right Praxos led them through a narrow alleyway until he pulled to a stop by a small door. He rapped his knuckles against the door. When no reply came he pounded the door with his fist.

“Autolycus!” His voice rumbled.

Movement, like someone shuffling around, sounded from behind the door. Then a loud thud as the same someone walked into something followed by a string of curses and muttering carried through one of the windows. 

The door was yanked open and a man with short, dark almost black hair and an oddly styled moustache glared back at them. “What?!”

“You have a new patient.” Praxos pushed the door open forcing the much shorter healer to take a step back.

“But it’s in the middle of the night!” Autolycus objected his dark brows curling with indignation. 

“I don’t care and neither does Kyra. So, get it done.” 

“Please,” Kassandra looked at the man. “She needs... _I_ need her. I cannot lose her again.” 

“All right,” he heaved a weary sigh but gave a small nod then motioned for a room towards the back of his modest house. “Bring her in there and I will see what I can do.” 

She swept into the house after Praxos reaching the backroom with just a few steps. It was a small room with a single bed, a trampled and worn rug and closed shutters to keep the rain out. 

She placed Chrysanthe on the bed then stepped away as Autolycus flicked his wrists at her, like a farmer herding his cattle. Phoibe pressed herself close to Kassandra and she wrapped an arm around the little girl’s shoulders.

“What happened to this woman? I have never seen…” His voice trailed off.

“She was a prisoner of Kleon’s.”

“There are dry clothes in the wardrobe. Over there,” Autolycus said tilting his head, ear held close to Chrysanthe’s lips, his fingers pressed against her pulse point. 

Praxos, intent on making Kassandra go see the Archon, crossed his arms and glared at her. She stared back, he could try to make her leave Chrysanthe and Phoibe before she knew they were both safe.

“Come, papagálo mou,” she squeezed Phoibe’s shoulder, “let’s get you dry and warm so you don’t catch a cold.”

“The Archon,” Praxos started, putting his hands on his hips. 

“Can wait.” She finished his sentence and wrapped a blanket around Phoibe whose teeth clattered. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to run I just want to make sure she’s all right.”

“Who cleaned this?” Autolycus interrupted the silent stare off between Kassandra and Praxos and she turned to look at him. His dark hair had fallen into his face and his brows knit together.

“I did…” she said slowly. By the look of his face, she was expecting bad news.

He turned away from her with a low ‘hm’. “It’s exceptionally well-cleaned, this might be what saves her. How did you know to clean her like this?” 

Kassandra looked away a chill creeping up her spine. “I was preparing her for burial.”

Autolycus stopped his examination of the omega abruptly. “What?”  Bushy eyebrows curled.

“She was dead, I had to cleanse her body or she wouldn’t…” 

“What do you mean ‘she was dead’? She is breathing. No one dies and comes back. Are you certain?”

“The whole crew saw her body. There was no life for a few candleburns. We travelled all the way from Athens and was nearby when she suddenly...out of nowhere I saw her take a breath.” she told the healer trying to keep the awe and confusion from her voice, feeling like a woman who had just witness a god descending.

“Incredible.” Autolycus shook his head then motioned with his hands towards Kassandra once more. “Now please leave me to work. The little girl can sleep in the living room while you go see the Archon.” 

“But I—”

“Should not keep the Archon waiting,” Autolycus said across his shoulder.

She sighed. Phoibe was in dry clothes again and the little girl could use some sleep. Talking to the Archon wouldn’t take long and she would be back before Phoibe woke up again. And she would send Ikaros with a message to the Adrestia to send both Kallistê and Roxana to watch over the healer’s place. 

“Phoibe?” She looked down at Phoibe and held out her hand.

“It’s all right, Kass. I’ll sleep in the living room until you come back,” Phoibe said but the small wink didn’t escape Kassandra’s eyes. She shook her head with a rueful grin and lead the little girl into the living room.

Crawling onto the modest kline Phoibe laid down and curled up amongst a handful of plush looking pillows. All of a sudden Kassandra could feel her body ache, wishing briefly that she could lay down next to Phoibe and get a few candleburns of sleep. She reached for a neatly folded up blanket lying on the floor and pulled it up across Phoibe’s small body until it reached her chin. 

“You _sleep_ now, all right?” She stroked the rosy cheek and gave Phoibe a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll be back soon. _Please_ sleep.”

Phoibe yawned. “I will.”

“I mean it, no snooping around on my behalf.”

“Kassandra,” Phoibe lifted her head from the pillows and levelled her gaze with Kassandra’s, “I promise I will do no snooping around on your behalf.”

“All right. And be good.” She tucked the blanket around Phoibe so that no cold air could sneak in. “Unless someone tries something. Then—” 

“Then everything is allowed,” Phoibe finished the sentence for her.

“Then everything is allowed,” she echoed then gave Phoibe one last kiss on the forehead before standing back up again to follow Praxos out the door. She may be tired and weary but there was no time for sleep. Not yet. The new Archon of Mykonos was waiting. 

**Ω**

Kassandra was back on Mykonos. The alpha had dared returned despite knowing Kyra never wanted to see her again. Despite the unspoken threat that if Kassandra did return, she would regret it. 

Kyra’s fists shook as she paced around the negotiations room. The sheer audacity of it! Not only had Kassandra burst into Kyra’s life like a siren of Poseidon to enchant Kyra but she had nearly killed Thaletas. The man Kyra admired and loved as her dearest friend. Kassandra had almost taken that away from Kyra and for what? 

_Thaletas sits still in the bed, propped up against the thick pillows. His eyes are locked somewhere on the distant horizon outside the window and he has barely spoken since he woke up, not since the healer left the room._

_Kyra watches him from the chair she sits in. His usually braided long hair sits in a knot on top of his head. She had to help him arrange it that morning before the healer arrived. It wouldn’t do for a Spartan man to show himself without his hair done._

_Her gaze falls to his right shoulder, bandaged and dressed carefully, though puss and stains are already soaking through the fabric. The healer’s words still ring in her ears. Thaletas right arm will never be the same. The spear has done too much damage._ Kassandra _has done too much damage. Thaletas will never be able to hold a spear again, let alone carry his shield. And what good is a Spartan without his shield?_

_“What happened, Thaletas? On the beach.” She strokes the stubbled cheek and he jerks away from her and when he turns to look at her it’s with a flinty scowl._

_“_ Your _indiscretion happened, Kyra,” he spits. “You put me between you and an_ alpha.”

_A scowl tugs at her brows but she forces it down. Thaletas was attacked by Kassandra, it would not only be foolish but also naive to think Kyra’s action played no part in it. Kassandra is an alpha and Thaletas is not. He’s just a regular human._

_Kyra had known about Thaletas feelings for her but she had assumed they would pass. Especially after the alpha landed on Mykonos and it was clear to just about anyone with half a brain that Kyra was smitten with her._

_She tried to hide it at first, tried to keep from touching Kassandra whenever she was near, but the more time they spent together the harder it became. To not be pulled into to Kassandra’s sphere, to not want to become part of it._

_When Thaletas had finally broached the subject Kyra had admitted to her feelings for the alpha. And to her great surprise, Thaletas had taken it like true Spartan. He had even gone out of his way to be friendly with Kassandra._

_“Thaletas, you_ knew _you and I were never… I never gave you a reason to think otherwise…”_

 _“But you love her, a Spartan outcast without honour. A_ dog. _” His scowl deepens. “And even after this, you still love her.”_

_She crosses her arms. “No. I can never love someone so selfish but even if I did, you are my friend and I will never forgive Kassandra for trying to kill you.”_

_“She only tried to kill me because she thought I was a threat! You should have known this!” His face reddens, veins bulging on his throat. “An alpha will_ never _respect another in their omega’s life. Friend or not. Alphas are monsters with no restrains. I was going to see you, to be your friend at your father’s burial but before I got to you Kassandra saw me and attacked.”_

_“Thaletas, Kassandra said you attacked her.”_

_“How can trust that filthy animal over me? A sellblade who fights without honour. Who attacked me when I had my back turned towards her. I am no coward and if ever saw her again…”_

_“You won’t,” she reassures him. “Kassandra has left and will never return.”_

Kyra pushed herself away from the large table she’d been leaning against. She had promised Thaletas that Kassandra would never return. And yet there she was, stood on the docks of Tavern Point cradling a woman, an Athenian, in her arms. Asking, no, begging Kyra for help. 

But Kyra would help no Athenian especially not the wife of a general. And not just any general but Perikles who had sent so many ships to their shores, who had sent so many soldiers that drew their blades and cut through her brothers and sisters fighting for the rebellion. She had lost more friends and family than what someone like Perikles and his group of elite maggots would ever understand. Kyra had heard of their lavish symposia where they ate and drank more food than most families on Mykonos would ever see. 

The thought made her burn with anger but then Kyra had sensed something in the way Kassandra held on to the woman, held on to Aspasia. The desperation in the alpha’s scent and eyes, the snarl when Kyra called her Perikles’s wife. An omega, Kyra had realised then. And not just any omega...

The grating sound of the heavy door opening to the estate drew Kyra from her thoughts and she looked up from the table cluttered with maps and scrolls. The scent that drifted up the stairs was musky and familiar. 

Kassandra.

**Ω**

The alpha moved with the same confidence, the same air of arrogance as she had that day when she walked into the rebellion’s hideout. It vexed Kyra. The alpha’s pridefulness, the strength and power she radiated as she strode across the room, shoulders square, face set, her hand only ever a heartbeat away from the broken spear on her back.

“Why are you here, Kassandra?” She asked, her voice sounding wearier than she had meant to let on.

“I was told to go see you.”

“Me?” She narrowed her eyes at Kassandra. What did she want? Why was she here? Did she not know her mere presence in Mykonos, let alone in the estate, would cause more trouble than Kyra was willing to handle.  “I believe it’s Thaletas you want to meet.”

Kassandra folded her arms across her chest, her face scrunching up in dismay. “And why would I want to do that?” 

Kyra fired off a glare at the alpha.“For starters, perhaps apologising to him would make your stay more pleasant.” Insulting the archon wasn’t what most people went out of their way to do. Then again most people didn’t try to kill an innocent man.

“Apologise?” Kassandra’s head jerked backwards. “I did nothing wrong.”

“Nothing wrong? You almost killed Thaletas.”

“He is still alive,” Kassandra snarled.

“Alive?” Kyra could hear her own voice rise. “Is that what you call it? Tell me, Kassandra of _Sparta,_ ” she spat the last part of the alpha’s name, “what good is Spartan who cannot carry his shield?”

Kassandra’s gaze flickered, the flames in the braziers dancing in her amber eyes. 

“You and your malákas alpha might as well have killed him.” 

“My _what_?” 

“ _Don’t_ pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about!” She shoved a pointing finger in Kassandra’s direction frustration and anger seeping into her voice. “Thaletas told me everything. You were so convinced a regular man would take your omega that you just had to mark your territory.” 

“What are you talking about?” Kassandra demanded hands curled into fists against her hips.

“You are an _alpha_.” Kyra slashed with her hand through the air.

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“What do you think I mean? I know how you alphas are! Your tempers, always marking your omegas and territories.”

“Marking omegas?!” Kassandra threw her hands up in the air, disbelief written across her face.  

“I know that caught in-between an alpha and their desired omega can be lethal for another, especially a regular human.” 

Kassandra took a step closer, her alpha dominant and imposing, and yet it called to the omega, enticing her. Kyra felt her gaze flicker, her back suddenly pressed against the wall in the dark corner of the room. Kassandra’s strong scent filled the air around them and Kyra had to anchor herself to the spot to not fist her hands into Kassandra’s exomie and pull her closer until she could lift her leg and wrap it around the alpha. 

“Do you think so little of me?” Kassandra murmured. 

How many moons ago had they been this close? Kassandra’s fingers digging roughly into Kyra’s hips, Kyra’s lips gasping against the freckled, muscular chest, hands burying themselves in Kassandra’s wild and unruly hair. The alpha was all raw power and hard muscles that flexed underneath the skin littered with scars. 

Standing this close to Kassandra again Kyra’s body shivered in anticipation. Her body still remembered the feel of Kassandra pressed against her, hips snapping into Kyra’s, the lips that caressed Kyra’s neck, whispering the most wonderful praise with every hard stroke. And though the alpha was a force to be reckoned with she was never too rough, always attuned to Kyra’s body. Kassandra would slow her movements to a heavenly slow pace when the omega found her willpower slipping from her fingers. When she could no longer contain the warmth surging through her body. And only when Kyra was a shuddering, weak mess in Kassandra’s arms would she pull out. Even if Kyra wasn’t in heat. Even if Kyra didn’t want her to. And not once had Kassandra tried to mark her or even ventured near the spot on Kyra’s neck despite the times Kyra had willingly guided the alpha’s lips towards it.

“Do you think me nothing more than a slave to my nature?” Kassandra was so close a single strand of hair would not fit between them. Her breath hot on Kyra’s lips, her voice low and raspy. Kyra swallowed, her throat feeling as dry as the bare hills of Plintri.

The strong hands that had pinned Kyra’s hands above her head and spread her trembling thighs wide, came to a rest against the wall behind Kyra and she found her fingers brushing against the taut stomach underneath the dark exomie. She knew what hid under it, the wicked pleasures Kassandra could bring her.

Kassandra’s hand fell to her hip but instead of pulling it closer as she had before she simply rested it there. “If I was nothing more than an alpha, would I not just mark you? Lift your peplos up and rut you right here on the Archon’s war table? To make claim on you, an unmarked omega.” 

Kyra licked her lips fighting her instincts, battling her desire, resisting the urge to pull Kassandra’s hips towards her own, to let the alpha grind herself against her. She willed her hands to stayed fisted in the front of Kassandra’s thin garment and not snake under it to brush her hand against Kassandra or wrap her fingers around the alpha and give a hard, firm stroke. She tore the image from her mind. 

“You would do so against my will.” Kyra managed to rasp out the feeble response.

“Would I?” Kassandra’s lips brushed against Kyra’s cheek and all her resolve melted like butter in the late summer sun.

“No,” she whispered inhaling the alpha’s scent.

“If I was just an alpha I _would_ give in to you now. Your scent is strong and my body knows… remembers yours. But I am more than this. More than my nature. And I am loyal, I am faithful to my Chryssa. I do not want to be cruel but my intentions were never to mark you for I… am already bound to my mate.” Kassandra stepped away from her, the muscular arms dropping to her side. “Whatever Thaletas told you my alpha made me do, _he_ is the liar not me.” 

Kyra’s body whined in protest, the pheromones dissipating into the air and she blinked in confusion as she watched Kassandra’s back retreating from the negotiations room.

She could still hear Kassandra’s steps recede down the stairs when she bit her lip and slumped against the wall, clutching the skirt of her peplos. Kassandra had gotten her all worked up and then left her to her own devices. Granted, the alpha had proven her point, that despite the willing omega before her she was more than her instincts. Something Kyra couldn’t say about herself in that moment, her entire body screaming for the alpha to return, to finish what she started. 

Her gaze fell on the war table and the taunting promise of what Kassandra would do to Kyra on it. What an insult it would be to their Archon. What an insult to Thaletas. 

Thaletas. The name sobered her up and she ripped her gaze away from the undisturbed table. Thaletas had lied to her. That much was clear. Kassandra was more than her alpha nature. She would not have tried to kill him out of jealousy, out of instinct to protect her omega. Because Kyra was _not_ Kassandra’s omega. 

**Ω**

Kassandra stepped into the room, a simple oil lamp casting a soft glow around the bedchamber. Her eyes landed on the sleeping omega and she halted momentarily, holding her breath. Chrysanthe looked peaceful, her head tilted to the side, dark, long curls spread like a veil on the pillow underneath her head. The eyelids fluttered and her chest rose and fell with each breath. She was alive. Chrysanthe was alive.

Kassandra moved quietly across the floor sitting down on her knees next to the low bed hands rested on the edge of the mattress, wanting but not daring to touch the woman on the bed. Her alpha yearned to be near Chrysanthe, to hold her in her arms, to keep her safe.     

“Kardia mou,” she whispered trying to find the right words to say. The ones that would beckon Chrysanthe back to her. But she found none. Words did not come as easily to her as it did the philosophers at the symposia. As it did Aspasia. She reached for the omega’s hand and lifted it towards her lips pressing a gentle kiss against the fingers. 

“Give me an enemy and I know what to do...but you, Chryssa...I was always so speechless around you.” She let out a soft sigh. “When I laid eyes on you again I _knew_ I was done for. And I know am no statesman, I have no political power. I am just a simple goat killer from Kephallonia...but I will always try to be worthy of you. I just need you to come back to me.”

“Well,” a voice behind her back startled her and she turned to see Autolycus stand in the doorway. “I’ve heard many things about the fearsome Eagle Bearer. How the eagle of Zeus gives your strength and bravery. That you’re blessed by the gods and that’s why you fight. But I think the stories are wrong.”

“Wrong?” She placed Chrysanthe’s hand on the soft mattress and sat back against the wall.

He crouched down in front of her and held out a kylix of wine. “I think there’s something far more powerful that keeps you going.”

“And what would that be?” Raising an eyebrow she took the kylix and brought it to her lips. The wine smelled like rich Athenian wine that should probably be diluted a little bit more before being served. 

The healer’s gaze slid over to the bed where Chrysanthe lay. “From what I’ve seen, both in here and in the living room, I would say _family_ is what gives the Eagle Bearer her strength.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hai!  
> Please drop me a comment.  
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> 
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	12. Lingering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read, bookmarked and given kudos so far!  
> Special thanks to those of you who've commented. I appreciate all of you but comments just also makes my day so much brighter.  
> This took longer than it should have. Sorry!  
> But here it is and I hope it was worth the wait.
> 
> Glossary:  
> Chora - Used for the main town on an island  
> bômolochus - AG version of a jester aka buffoon  
> Ma Dia - By the gods (AG cursing)  
> vukamvilia - large plant with vines-like branches and fuchsia flowers  
> Trahanas - Soup found in the cuisines of Southeast Europe and the Middle East

* * *

**Mykonos, Hekatombaion 426 BC**

_It’s not the sun that wakes her up, not even the birds that chirp in lively melodies, but the sweet scent of the purring omega in her arms. Golden curls spill onto the pillow, the warm morning sun caressing it and tiny rainbows skitter playfully across the soft locks._

_Kassandra has always loved the scent of Chrysanthe but this morning it’s different. Chrysanthe usually hid her scent. An omega was a rarity, an unmarked one even more so and not all alphas respected the omega’s free will to chose who to mark them. Though Chrysanthe doesn’t hide her scent around Kassandra. As if the omega feels safe around her. It sends an odd wave of pride, of something warm through Kassandra’s chest and she pulls the hair from Chrysanthe’s neck and nuzzles her nose against the spot. The one that calls out to her. The one she’s forbidden to mark._

_The omega stirs. Her scent is different this morning. Stronger and smells of something else. Something new yet familiar. She smells of..._ _Kassandra frowns. She smells of_ her _. Chrysanthe has been on Kephallonia since the beginning of summer and though they’ve spent most of the afternoons and nights together Chrysanthe has never changed her scent. Has always smelled the same. And she has_ never _taken on Kassandra’s scent before._

_She wonders briefly why her scent is mixed with the omega’s until the memory of Chrysanthe the night before flashes through her mind. The memory of Chrysanthe locking Kassandra in place despite how close she is, despite the throbbing and pulsing the omega no doubt can feel with every quick stroke. Kassandra knows not to go too deep when she gets close, knows to keep her movements short and shallow. She knows better than to risk an accident. But the way Chrysanthe looks at her, brows curled, lips parted as she squeezes tightly around Kassandra, barely even blinking, sends Kassandra's alpha rutting deeper. Harder._

_Her omega calls out to Kassandra in time with the breathless moans that fall from her lips, the sounds as sweet and enchanting as a siren's song to the alpha. Warm and soft flesh robs Kassandra of her breath and with Chrysanthe’s fingers digging into her hips, leg wrapped around her, keeping her in place, she slows her movements._

_Chrysanthe is everywhere, her scent, her skin and flesh, soft and warm. And she has never felt this wonderful before, Kassandra has never been this deep, and she can’t hold on, doesn’t want to hold on but doesn’t want to let go. But then Chrysanthe flutters around her and it’s enough to shatter her self-control._

_Her mind goes blank and she buries herself deeper, her teeth grazing the spot on Chrysanthe’s neck as she lets herself go. All the while Chrysanthe whispers in her ears, promises of love and adoration. And Kassandra accepts it all, promises the same, promises she'll always love her. Never leave her. She pledges herself to the omega, promises to always find her no matter where she goes. It's stupid, of course, it is. But in that moment she means it. All of it._

The clinking of bowls drew Kassandra from sleep and she cracked an eye open. A woman, perhaps a year or two younger than herself, stood in the doorway, eyes round and big, a tray held firmly in her hands. 

“Chaire,” she said blinking the last remnants of sleep from her eyes. She tilted her head forward to catch the other woman's gaze. Hazel eyes snapped towards hers, a blush spreading across the woman’s cheeks.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” The woman’s gaze flickered but like resin, it kept sticking to a particular spot. Kassandra lowered her gaze following the woman’s eyes.

 _Malaká!_ She scrambled to her feet, quickly grabbing a pillow from the bed to cover herself. The woman, a rather attractive one, looked just as embarrassed as Kassandra felt where she stood pressing the pillow against herself. 

“It’s...I…this isn’t normally…” She could feel her cheeks burn and if she could sink through the floor she would gladly do so. There had been mornings when she woke to a similar state but she was usually alone or had her bed warmed by someone who caused the untimely effect. But very few where she had no control over herself and for a second she considered giving herself a hard slap only to realise it might not help the current state at all. 

The woman swallowed though a sheepish grin grew on her lips. “Father sent me with food for you. And your friend, if she wakes up.” She took another step into the room lifting the tray up. 

“Your father?”

“Yes,” Autolycus's voice rang from the doorway, “so why don’t you put that thing away.”

“Autolycus, I wasn’t...” She held one hand out in the air, palm turned outwards. “This is not what it looks like. I did not—”

“All right, all right,” he waved his hand in the air dismissively one eyebrow curled in amusement. “We’ve all had that problem…”

“I haven't,” the woman said helpfully. Though a playful smile pulled at her lips. 

Autolycus shot her a sharp look and she quickly rearranged her face, looking solemn once more. “Either way, you best keep it away from Efrosyni.” 

“Of course, I would never...uh…I mean, she is very pleasant but—” She motioned with her hand towards Efrosyni whose lips thinned into a line. 

“ _Pleasant?_ ” Efrosyni raised her eyebrows.

Chuckling Autolycus sat down on the bed and pressed two fingers against Chrysanthe’s neck. “Perhaps a walk around the town before you say something that’s going to anger _all_ the women of this house even further.”

“Yes. That. Yes.” She gave a sharp nod before scurrying out of the room expertly avoiding to look at Efrosyni after having successfully insulted the woman despite trying to keep them both out of trouble.

“Kass!” Phoibe popped her head out from the kitchen. “Where are you going?”

“For a walk,” she muttered tossing the pillow onto the kline as she passed it. 

“Can I come with you?”

“No.” 

“But I—”

“I said _no_ , Phoibe,” she snapped pushing the door open. 

Cold morning air heavy with dampness from the rain rushed through the door sending ripples of goosebumps across her skin. She rubbed her arms as she stepped out into the small alley. Though the air was like a miserable wet blanket, the drizzle and cold air were helpful allies in making her feel a lot less tense than before. 

Sucking in a breath she walked through the thin alleyway towards the outer rim of the Chora. Baskets with carefully stowed away fruit lined the walls of the alleyway and she was careful not to knock them over as she made her way towards the road that curled around the Chora, past the beach and up the hills. After a rather embarrassing start to the morning, an angry merchant on her back was the last thing she wanted. Though it might help distract her from thinking of other things. 

She let out a frustrated grunt as she picked her way between the carts with the morning’s fresh produce to be sold at the agora. Why was it so hard for her to be around Chrysanthe? Every time she was near the omega her body acted on its own accord. Like a rebellious teenager refusing to do what it was being told. 

She frowned and rubbed her chest, just below her collarbones. It felt odd. Empty. Ever since Chrysanthe had died. Before then it had sometimes buzzed and tingled whenever she thought of the omega. It wasn’t something she had noticed much. Not until Chrysanthe had died. Not until it was gone.

Following the path as it curled around the base of the cliffs a short distance away from the beach, she heard someone’s footsteps trailing closely behind her. They were quiet and careful though whoever was following her was in dire need of better training.

 _Guess we’ll have to remedy that._ She grinned and slowed her walk to a stop. She only had to wait for a short while before Phoibe stalked out from her hiding spot. 

“Were you trying to spy on me? Or flush rabbits from their hiding spots so I could fetch us lunch?”

“It’s the mud,” Phoibe glared at her, “it’s so loud when you walk on it.” She stomped her foot in the mud that squelched underneath her small sandal. 

“Only if you don’t know how to do it.” Kassandra continued her walk leading them around the outskirts of the Chora. “Either way...did I not tell you to stay behind?”

“Why is Efrosyni angry with you?” Phoibe ignored her question answering with one of her own instead.

“I don’t know. But that’s  _not_ what we’re talking about here.”

Phoibe scoffed and looked up at her, top lip pursed. “I’m just a child but I can still tell when you’re lying.”

Kassandra huffed. Perhaps Kyra had a point when she’d implied Phoibe was taking after Aspasia. “I don’t know, I was trying to get her out of a situation and she got upset.”

“What kind of situation?”

She paused. How did one explain the morning’s situation to a child? “Well, I simply did not want Autolycus to think I…”

Phoibe gasped her eyes widening with realisation. “That you _kissed_ her?” Phoibe lowered her voice, gaze darting back and forth like she was about to share a secret with her best friend. “ _Did_ you kiss her?” 

“I...what?” She almost laughed both relieved and grateful that Phoibe was still so innocent despite the hardship the little girl had already endured. Not all street urchins were that lucky. _She was being sent to me to start her training._ Agape’s words rang in Kassandra’s head. An innocence that would have been taken from Phoibe if it hadn’t been for Aspasia. For Chrysanthe. 

An overwhelming sense of protectiveness washed over her and she wrapped her arm around Phoibe. “No. I did not kiss Efrosyni.”

“Then _what_ did you do?” 

“I simply explained to Autolycus that I hadn’t.”

“ _What_ did you say?”

“Nothing bad, I said I had not...err...kissed her. That she was pleasant but that—” Phoibe’s giggle interrupted her. Crossing her arms she glared at the little girl doubled over on the road.

“Kass, 'pleasant' is just another word for ordinary or ugly.”

“How do you even know this?!”

“Roxana.”

“Roxana, huh.” Kassandra pursed her lips.  “Looks like I'll be having a talk with her…”

“Roxana is _not_ ordinary.”

It was Kassandra’s turn to laugh. “No, Little Warrior, she’s not.” She put her hand on Phoibe’s shoulder. 

Roxana was anything but ordinary. The lieutenant was as beautiful as she was strong and Roxana knew exactly what she wanted letting nothing or no one getting in the way of that. And though it had almost cost Kassandra her life it was still the thing she admired most about Roxana. That Phoibe had developed a small crush on the woman was not surprising to Kassandra. Most people in Roxana’s surroundings was drawn to her. Which was probably why she’d seen Odessa starting to spend more and more time around Roxana. 

“Maybe if we see flowers I can get some for her,” Phoibe mused.

Kassandra grinned and looked down at Phoibe. “Maybe you should get those for Aspasia instead? I’m sure she would love them.” If memory served her well Chrysanthe loved poppies. The purple kind. 

“Yes!” Phoibe nodded then pointed towards a green field of lush grass and wilderness. “Can we look over there?”

“Of course. Lead the way.” She followed the little girl making sure to keep an eye out for any threats. Despite Kyra allowing them to stay on Mykonos, Kassandra held no illusions that they were staying on enemy soil. She would have to be careful moving around the Chora, especially now that she had Phoibe to care for. 

Ikaros cried out above them and she glanced up to see him sail through the air, circling them and she relaxed a little. Ikaros would help keep them safe. There was no one else she trusted as much as she did Ikaros. The proud eagle who had come to her rescue that night at Mount Taygetos. She could still see it, how he swooped from the dark skies, cracks of lighting whipping through the darkness. Never had she seen something so impressive before and she knew in an instant that he was a sign, a blessing from somewhere and that she would follow him. And she had. He had led her through the thick forest, down the sleet covered mountain, urging her on, squawking loudly when she stumbled and refused to get back up. He clawed at the back of her chiton, needle-sharp talons tugging at the linen fabric forcing her to her feet. And like this they had kept it up, she fell, he picked her up more times than she could count until finally, they reached a beach and the small boat that brought her to the sandy shores of Kythera. More or less. 

Kassandra let out a soft breath and shook her head. The boat had brought her close enough for her to be washed ashore and found by Markos. Turning her attention back to Phoibe again she felt a pang of guilt. Kassandra had been so happy to see Phoibe again when she first met her in Athens again that she hadn’t even given Markos a second thought. What had happened to him? She frowned. Why did she even care? The man was a bastard and had used her for all his schemes and brilliant ideas. And if she hadn’t made Phoibe promise to not tell Markos about the obsidian eye he would have found one way or another to use Phoibe as well. 

She pulled to a stop and watched Phoibe as she dashed towards a bush with colourful flowers blooming around it. It was nice seeing Phoibe being a child, carelessly strolling through the tall grass kneeling every here and there to pick a flower. And although it wasn’t the first day they spent doing something together, it was the first day since Athens. Since Kassandra realised she’d made the mistake of thinking Phoibe was safer with someone else. Thinking Phoibe didn’t need parents, just someone fun to be silly. She had been foolish to not notice how the little girl was drawn to Aspasia, how she sought someone to fill that void. Because Kassandra wouldn’t. Because Kassandra always left. 

Perhaps that was the most foolish thing of it all? Always missing her family, always searching for them in the strangers she saw at the dock of Samis when her family had been right there in front of her. But instead of embracing it she had pushed it away, afraid that if she reached out for it and grabbed it, she would ruin it all. Just like she had in Sparta. Instead, she had almost lost Phoibe anyway. 

She gave a hard shake of her head and stepped onto the dew-covered grass. Not anymore. Where she went Phoibe went. And the two of them would piece together what family they could. 

“Kass?” Phoibe looked up from the pinecones she was inspecting and trying to stuff into the bouquet as Kassandra drew nearer. 

“I thought perhaps I could help you?” She crouched down next to Phoibe. 

Phoibe's mouth curled in poorly disguised scepticism. “Are you any good at picking flowers?”

“I know how to pick flowers,” she said, defending against the defamation of her character. 

A wrinkle formed between Phoibe’s brows. “They have to be _nice_ , Kassandra.” 

 _Says the girl with a fistful of grass in her hand…_ “Well, for your information, Chryssa’s favourite flower is the poppy.” She nodded towards a patch of mauve flowers.

Phoibe’s face lit up. “Okay, you can help.”

She grinned following Phoibe as the little girl darted towards the patch of flowers. Then when Kassandra had gotten close enough pointed at the top of a tall vukamvilia blossoming with saturated fuchsia flowers. Lifting Phoibe on to her shoulders she let the little girl cut two small branches from the vine-like plant. “Watch out for thorns.”

“I am holding a knife…”

“Right. Well, be careful.” Chrysanthe would kill her if she knew she let Phoibe wield a knife sat on her shoulders while cutting a slightly toxic bush. “How about we don’t tell Chryssa about this when she wakes up?”

“Why do you keep calling her that?”

“Calling her what?”

“Chryssa. Everyone else calls her Aspasia, but she doesn’t seem to like it much.” Phoibe handed her the knife and the two vines and Kassandra used the sharp edge to slice the thorns from the stems buying herself some time to consider her next words. Was it her story to tell? 

She handed the de-thorned vines to Phoibe. Parts of it was her story to tell. “I once knew Aspasia. Before she…” A pang of pain bubbled through her chest as she remembered the night Chrysanthe had left. For whatever reason, at the time Kassandra hadn’t known why. To her, it seemed Chrysanthe had just left her behind. Tossed her aside. Like everyone else. She swallowed thickly. “We were friends a long time ago.”

“Like you and Roxana?”

Kassandra chuckled softly as she started to make her way back to the Chora. The sun was getting higher and if Chrysanthe woke up Kassandra wanted to be there. 

“Not exactly. We were maybe a little bit closer. But back then she was known by another name.”

“Chryssa?”

“Chrysanthe.” She walked them through the forest and back to the dirt road all the while telling Phoibe of their time together. 

“Aspasia took care of me when I was a baby?” Phoibe whispered in awe as they walked through the gates towards the agora near in the middle of the Chora.

“Yes, she’d bring you to the outlook and we’d try to feed you to the birds. That’s how we got Ikaros.” This drew a burst of squealing laughter from Phoibe as Kassandra turned the corner into the small alleyway outside Autolycus house. 

“Maybe when she wakes up she can tell me about it.”

“I’m sure she will.”

“Wake up?” Phoibe looked down at her.

“Yes. Until then, how about you help me make some Trahanas.”

**Ω**

**Elysium**

She sat on a most beastly looking creature. Red glowing eyes, its tail and mane smouldering with black smoke as it raced across the fields of Elysium on soundless hooves leaving a trail of dead grass in its wake. 

She wrapped her arms tighter around Kassandra’s waist earning herself an amused glance from the alpha when her hand accidentally brushed against the muscled thigh.

“Really, Chryssa?” Kassandra grinned. “On top of this poor horse?”

Uncertain as to why, Chrysanthe suddenly felt shy, her cheeks warm with a blush. “I wasn’t trying to…” she bit her lip at the memory of their nights together. How she’d drop her hand into Kassandra’s lap and curl her fingers around the alpha’s impressive girth. 

Kassandra slowed the horse to a brisk walk allowing it to catch its breath. Turning her back as much as she could Kassandra observed her, much like that day back on the Adrestia when Chrysanthe had let her wet chiton drop to the floor. 

“The world is about to crumble around us and _that’s_ what you’re thinking of?”

“I wasn’t it was an innocent mistake, I assure you!”

“Well…” the alpha’s voice dipped low as she spoke, “I wouldn’t mind you making that mistake once we’re out of here.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t.” She smiled and leaned her head against Kassandra’s back. Twenty-eight years had passed and despite the changes in the alpha, some things—she noted—remained the same. Some but not all. “What is it like?”

“What is what like?”

“The world, will I recognise it?” Many things could change in the span of twenty years.

There was a heavy sigh. “Truthfully, I don’t know. And I’m not sure you want to know everything...” 

Chrysanthe could feel Kassandra sag ever so slightly, her shoulders falling forward. Life had not been kind to the tired warrior sitting in front of her. “Phoibe?”

“Phoibe is fine. She was raised by the Daughters of Artemis. She's older but you'll still recognise her.”

“The Daughters of Artemis?” She frowned. The Daughters of Artemis was a tribe consisting of smaller groups spread across all of Hellas. But they were renowned for not letting just anyone in without passing the trials. How old had Phoibe been when Aspasia passed away, eight?

“They made an exception,” Kassandra replied evasively and she could sense the alpha wanted to change the subject. And being the omega she was, Chrysanthe absolutely wouldn't let her.

Inhaling Chrysanthe held her breath as her mind carefully considered all the facts she had. Kassandra had a child in the living world and she had somehow convinced the Daughters of Artemis to take Phoibe in. 

“Of course,” she whispered.

“Of course?”

“Your daughter, the one you mentioned...you mated with a Daughter of Artemis.” The thought stung no matter how illogical it was. Chrysanthe had died and that was _after_ leaving Kassandra on Kephallonia to become a consort and bear a child for Perikles. Kassandra had every right to build a new family. Pure logic would have the alpha mating to create offspring. She glowered where she sat. If it was logic why did it feel illogical? 

“What?!” Kassandra pulled the horse to a stop to turn and look at her. “I got in enough trouble for making her break her vow of chastity. If I had impregnated her I’m pretty sure Artemis herself would have come after me for defiling her most devout leader.”

Chrysanthe blinked. “I mean...it’s not like it hasn’t happened before…”

Kassandra’s jaw fell open, eyes going round. “I...you..! You…” She shoved an indignant finger in Chrysanthe’s direction. “You did your _thing_. And I’m in much better... _control_ these days.”

Chrysanthe had to bite down hard on her smile, partly because Kassandra always hated it when she called her adorable, partly because far too many good memories of Kassandra and her self-control flooded Chrysanthe’s memories. 

“Why are you smiling?” Kassandra glared at her though the sour glare turned soft when the omega lifted her palm to the alpha’s cheek.

“I have had countless debates with Socrates about the nature of éros. That love is but man’s love for the everlasting possession of the good—that which will bring him happiness. That love is man’s desire for immortality with the good. Therefore love is of immortality.” She paused watching Kassandra’s forehead wrinkle in thought. “I am losing your attention by reciting things you care very little for or not at all, I realise. But I think I was wrong…”

“I’m not even sure what you just said so I wouldn’t know.”    

Chrysanthe smiled bringing the warrior’s face closer to her own, leaning her forehead against Kassandra’s. “Love is not _of_ immortality, but immortality itself. It has sprung but never withered like I thought it would. You have disqualified all my notions. If Socrates, if the poets and playwrights of comedy saw me now…what would they think?”

“Why do you care?”

“For once, I have no clever answer. My own rhetoric fails me in your presence.”

“Then stop your incessant talking,” Kassandra muttered in mock annoyance before pressing her lips against Chrysanthe’s in a chaste kiss.

She smiled into the kiss. “Is this an attempt to distract me? From my previous question?”

“Is it working?” Kassandra murmured in-between kisses.

“Maybe,” she mused, “but if I remember correctly you said to behave on the horse.”

“It is hard to be around you. After all this time, how am I to keep myself away from you when you look at me like that?”

“If you keep this up we might leave this place later rather than sooner.” She laughed at the alpha’s confession. 

Kassandra drew away from her. “Is that an offer?”

She shook her head. “No time my dear, end of the world, remember?”

“I can be quick.” Kassandra flashed her a grin.

“Is that supposed to seduce me?” She quirked an eyebrow realising, merely candledrops too late, her mistake when an all too familiar expression flashed across the alpha’s handsome features. A wicked, hungry grin. 

“Oh, you want to be seduced?” 

“No!” Her head nodded as if by its own accord. Kassandra tilted her head, the corner of her mouth kicking up in a smile.

“Maybe,” she conceded. “But you know we don’t have time. The world, whatever it may be like now, needs you.”

“Fine,” Kassandra sighed and turned around once more. 

“So, are you going to tell me? What to expect.”

“Hellas is still at war, it’s not looking too good for your Athens...but Alkibiades managed to defeat the Spartans at Cyzicus.”

“Red, blue...what does any of it matter if all we do is wage war upon Hellas and all her regions?” Chrysanthe sighed. If she could have turned the cult around, maybe she could have helped put an end to the war. 

“Like your cult?” 

She froze. Her cult? How did Kassandra know? Cold fingers clamped around her heart filling her chest with dread. She opened her mouth to explain only to be silenced by the hard pull of reins as Kassandra once again pulled the mare to a stop.

A large plaza opened up before them, grand with a large portal at the far end. It pulsed with a blue ethereal glow beckoning them towards it. It was beautiful and frightening all the same.

Motion to her side drew her attention away from the mesmerising blue glow and she saw Kassandra slip off the horse and land with a soft thud on the marble floor. The alpha stood motionless for a moment face turned towards the portal then slowly she turned around to look up at Chrysanthe where she sat holding her breath.

“I know you’re part of the cult. The cult I thought I had wiped from the face of Hellas but even that I failed to do. They flourish once more now closer than ever to breaching Atlantis.”

“Kassandra, I…” she paused. There had been too many excuses already. If she was going back to the world of the living she had to do so with a clean slate. “Yes, I was. I foolishly thought I could make Hellas a better place perhaps even save her from the greed and corruption that decay her to the roots.”

“And you wanted to keep me safe…” Kassandra’s eyes locked with hers. “You’re forgetting that part.”

“Agape told you…”

Holding up a hand Kassandra motioned for Chrysanthe to slide off the mare. She peered over the edge. The horse was rather tall and the jump down a lot further than she was certain she could manage. 

 _I’ll catch you._ Amber eyes promised. _I’ll never let you go._ Just like all those years ago on the first night of her heat.

Nodding she reached out for the hand, grabbed it then swung her leg across the wide back. She shimmied but before she could properly prepare herself invisible hands seemingly reached out and pulled her towards the ground. She sucked in a breath but instead of tumbling ungracefully to the marble floor a strong hand slid up her hip, the alpha steadying her fall with her solid, muscular frame. 

Kassandra’s hand had slid up her hip and her fingers pressed into the skin underneath the soft linen of Chrysanthe’s peplos. The alpha’s palm, calloused and rough burned on Chrysanthe’s skin where they stood pressed close together, the omega’s hands grabbing at the broad shoulders. 

“We should go through the portal…” Kassandra mumbled. “Lest we want the world to end while we’re preoccupied with other things.”

Chrysanthe could feel her own chest heave her omega calling out to the alpha but she nodded. Phoibe was waiting on the other side for them and Sapphira was waiting with Persephone. The longer they took the longer everyone had to wait. 

Taking Chrysanthe’s hand in her own the alpha led them towards the portal. Chrysanthe glanced down at their hands as she followed. How well they fit together. Slotted in place like pieces of a puzzle box. 

“You go first.” Kassandra jutted her chin in the portal's direction. “I’ll be right behind you. And Phoibe is waiting on the other side.”

Chrysanthe squeezed Kassandra’s hand harder. “Promise?”

“I promise.” 

“Then I'll see you soon?”

“Won’t be more than a blink of an eye.”     

**Ω**

Impenetrable darkness swallowed her whole. Then blinding light rushed past her, flickering, and dancing, its bright light sharp and merciless. It lasted for only a heartbeat before she was thrust into complete darkness once more. 

A darkness that smelled of salt and wood. A darkness that was cold and unforgiving, penetrating her very bones. 

Frightened she clawed at the darkness in a desperate attempt to free herself to find some light. It felt like forever. The darkness around her never-ending. She was beginning to despair when a sound from somewhere behind her or perhaps next to her caught her attention. 

It was shrill and repetitive in rhythm. And—she noted—quite annoying after a while. Seagulls? She was lying down she realised. Lying in darkness. Alive but not awake. 

 _Wake up._ She ordered herself. But she remained caught in-between. She tried to pull herself up, force her mind to snap into awareness. But each time she was pulled back down. 

She pulled again, fought against the invisible restraints keeping her in place. Every muscle, every sinew screamed with pain as she struggled to move. _Almost there._ The restrains were loosening and she reached out with her hands only to be jerked back in place. 

She screamed in frustration. A soundless scream that echoed with nothingness. 

“I think it was good you didn’t kiss Efrosyni.” A voice suddenly cut through the darkness. The first she has heard thus far.

“Why?” another voice asked. This one was familiar. One she’d only just spoken to. Though it sounded different. Not as defeated and younger?

“I don’t think Chryssa would have liked that very much,” the other voice, much younger, said.

“What makes you say that?”

“She looks at you funny when you’re not looking,” the younger voice said matter-of-factly. 

“She doesn’t.”

“Do you _like_ Chryssa?” There was a sense of wonder in the other’s voice. Childish wonder. 

“Of course I do. We were friends once. I like all my friends.” _Kassandra?_

“But you _really_ like her,” the younger voice said smugly. “You know her _favourite_ flower.”

She waited for Kassandra to answer but instead, silence settled once more. She wanted to tell the voices to keep talking. Tell Kassandra and the young child to keep talking. The silence in the dark was too deafening but the voices remained quiet.

 _Come back!_ She tried to shout, but nothing came out not even the barest wheeze. She listened more closely but the voices had gone leaving her alone in the dark. _Please,_ she begged quietly. _Please_.

“I do.” Kassandra’s voice cut through the dark once more and Chrysanthe latched on to the voice. Anchored herself to it. If she followed it she would escape the dark. She knew it, could feel it just like she could feel the warm sheets on her skin. 

“You should tell her when she wakes up.”

“I don't know, Phoibe,” Kassandra said. _Phoibe?_ Her mind reeled. Kassandra told her Phoibe was twenty-eight. But that was not the voice of a twenty-eight year old.

“Why not?” There was a frown in Phoibe's voice.

“It’s complicated.” _Complicated? Complicated?!_ She wanted to glare at the alpha. Of all the complicated things in life—politics, man's quest for happiness and knowledge, greed and power—them, her and Kassandra, was not nearly as complicated. 

She pulled herself through the darkness forcing it aside, if only to tell Kassandra would a foolish bômolochus she was.

“But Kass...you _kissed_ Chryssa in the cave.” Phoibe pointed out, a tinge of worry seeping into her voice. 

 _In the cave?_ Chrysanthe’s mind struggled to piece together the information she'd been given all the while desperately dragging herself from her restraints. The invisible hands pinning her down. She pulled at the voices as if they were lifelines. The cave she had died in? How or _when_ had she been put back?  

“I did kiss her,” Kassandra admitted drawing a gasp from the little girl.

Chrysanthe clung tighter to the voices, to the lifeline, refusing to let go. If she could at least hold onto their voices she wouldn't get dragged back down again. 

“Kass! What if you put a baby in her?”

The sound of choking reached her ears and she laughed. It gave her the strength to push against the darkness and she yanked with more determination at the ropes slowly dragging her from her place. 

“That's not exactly how it works,” the alpha said awkwardly and she could imagine the look on Kassandra's face. She wanted desperately to see that face again. Needed to see both their faces.

“Mater said that’s why grownups close the door when they kiss. And then the one who is kissing the other one puts the baby in her tummy.”

“Ma Dia…” Kassandra muttered.

One last tug.

Bright light stung her eyes as she peeled them open. Her vision was blurred and distorted and she blinked slowly. Two figures sat on the floor next to her, the bigger one behind a much smaller one. 

“I will make you a wager.” Phoibe’s small frame came into view as Chrysanthe’s eyes adjusted to the soft glow in the room. Phoibe's eight-year-old small frame, Chrysanthe realised. “If she has a baby now, you are wrong and I am right and then you have to get me my own Ikaros.”

“How do you even know the word ‘wager’?” Kassandra asked. Chrysanthe could see the alpha clearer, her eyes having adjusted almost completely to the warm light from the oil lamp. The orange glow illuminated both Phoibe and Kassandra, large shadows dancing across the walls around them. This was not the Kassandra from Elysium. This was the same Kassandra Chrysanthe had seen yesterday.  

“Aspasia.”

The alpha grunted. “Another person I’m going to have a talk with whenever she decides to wake up.”

“Well...I suppose we have quite a lot of catching up to do,” Chrysanthe rasped out. 

Two heads and two sets of eyes snapped towards her staring in silent shock. Then as if prompted by the gods themselves alpha and child alike scrambled on hands and knees towards her.

“Chryssa?”

“Chryssa!” Phoibe was on the bed in a heartbeat, Kassandra leaning over her studying her with a wide-eyed look.

“Chryssa,” Kassandra breathed, “you’re alive.” 

Chrysanthe nodded yet again at a loss for words. What good were words when all she wanted to do was hold the people she held dearest? Kassandra it seemed was also at a loss for words. 

“You might have a baby in your stomach,” Phoibe piped up to which Kassandra’s face contorted in horror. Laughing weakly Chrysanthe lifted her hand towards the alpha’s elbow that rested on the bed. 

If only Kassandra knew what awaited in the underworld. _Who_ waited. A pang of pain shot through her chest and she could feel the corners of her mouth twitch with uncontrolled sadness. But then Kassandra’s hand came to rest on top of her head, her thumb caressing her forehead gently.

“You’re awake,” Kassandra whispered awe and wonder leaking into her words. “I thought you...that I lost...I was so sure…” The stoic alpha, the brave misthios of Zeus struggled to keep her voice steady.

“Come here,” the omega whispered giving Kassandra’s bicep a squeeze prompting her to lean closer but when she was little more than a breath away the alpha pulled to a stop. 

“Your lips,” Kassandra said in a weak attempt at a protest.

“Have been waiting long enough.” And with that Kassandra brushed her lips against Chrysanthe’s. Tenderly, careful to keep the pressure off the healing cracks on the omega’s lips. 

The kiss, though gentle, stung, and Chrysanthe's own tears that mixed and mingled with Kassandra’s added to the burn. But no sting, not even all the pain in the world could keep her away from her alpha anymore. She pressed her lips harder against Kassandra, the soft feeling of the alpha’s lips between hers filling her with warmth and happiness. 

A sharp intake of breath could be heard next to them.

“I’m not putting a baby in her. Shut up,” Kassandra muttered and covered Phoibe’s face with her palm. A firm but playful push sent the little girl backwards in the bed as she tittered. 

“Come here and let me hug you.” Chrysanthe did not have to tell Phoibe twice. She quickly crawled up next to Chrysanthe then curled up and put her head on her chest. A sharp jolt of pain shot through her when Phoibe’s elbow nudged her ribs and she let a small gasp slip. 

“Careful,” Kassandra said softly. 

“I’m sorry,” Phoibe said quickly moving to pull away from Chrysanthe.

“It’s all right, koukla mou.” She wrapped her arm around Phoibe pulling her back in stroking the side of her small face. 

Kassandra, still kneeling next to the bed watched them with soft eyes. Unlike the other Kassandra, the one with no strength left, this one stood proud, shoulders squared, her alpha scent strong and powerful. This was an alpha that could do anything. That was unstoppable. 

A sudden intrusion had Chrysanthe’s hackles rising and before she knew what was happening a growl burst from her lips. A most unpleasant smell invaded all of her senses. The stench of another omega. An omega who smelled of Kassandra. Of _her_ alpha.

“Kyra?”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well...shit's certainly about to go down...
> 
> If you like what I do, please consider leaving me kudos, comment. and bookmark me.  
> All those things help me get more exposure and more readers. Thank you.


	13. Scars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's heeereee!  
> Thanks for all the kudos, comments and bookmarks.
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to JackieSelah. Whom you can thank for the upcoming story:  
> «A Season For Love, The Chryssandra Story We All Deserve To Read»  
> Btw, does anyone want to see young Chryssandra? Drop a comment below!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

* * *

**Mykonos, **Hekatombaion 426 BC****

An omega, stunning, with long dark hair, and intense brown eyes pulled to an abrupt stop. Her eyes narrowed growing flinty as her gaze landed on Chrysanthe. If both of them hadn’t been omegas Chrysanthe would have assumed nothing of the wrinkle of dismay that formed at the corner of the other woman’s lips. But she reeked of Kassandra. 

Chrysanthe would have to be an idiot to not understand what that meant. Perhaps that was what the other woman thought? That Chrysanthe would be so simple as to think nothing of it. How recent had it been? Moons or just a few candleburns? The thought sent a jolt of anger through her the other’s scent becoming even more intrusive. Her spicy scent mixed with the alpha’s, taunting Chrysanthe. Challenging her. _I will take your alpha_ , it threatened. _Take your family from you._

Chrysanthe snarled, her grip of Phoibe tightening. She had not come back from death to lose her family. Again.  

The other omega’s lips curled in a smile, a victorious one. She knew she had the upper hand. She turned her eyes towards Kassandra who stood up, looking like a deer caught between a wolf and a bear not sure which would be the greater threat. 

“I thought I could feel a particularly unpleasant stench coming from this room.” 

“Kyra…” Chrysanthe could hear the low warning tone in Kassandra’s voice. Kyra? As in the daughter of Podarkes? One of the sages who had stopped reporting in. The one who had held Mykonos and her people hostage for too many years. The one who Kreios had gifted an entire army to so that Podarkes would be able to defeat Perikles’s forces on the island.   

Yes, now that Chrysanthe recognised the name she could see the resemblance. Kyra had her father’s dark eyes and broad cheekbones.  

The omega’s gaze found Chrysanthe again and her forehead puckered as she glared at Chrysanthe with thinly veiled disgust. “No wonder you came crawling to my bed, Kassandra.”  

It was meant to hurt her, to make her feel inferior and perhaps it would have if Chrysanthe hadn't spent too many years being scrutinized by philosophers and common man alike, ridiculed by the poets and playwrights. In many ways she was inferior to this woman, of that, she had no doubt. Kyra had been the leader of the Mykonos rebellion. A rebellion that fought to free its people. Was there anything nobler? Purer. 

Chrysanthe was anything but pure. If this woman, if this Kyra, knew the things she had done. She would know that she was right to think herself better. Kyra would know that Chrysanthe was not worthy of anything the other could want. That she was not worthy of Kassandra. 

Though men fought to pay for her company and women gave her scathing looks as she was courted by these men, when it came to honour, to passing their heritage, their family name on, no man, no alpha would ever choose a hetaera. A hetaera was good for pleasure, for giving young men the experience in their own pleasure but she was never more than a body used for one blissful night in a dark room or alleyway. 

Perhaps all of this should make her avert her eyes away in shame. Maybe even give up and tell Kassandra to go to the other omega. But like a warrior had his armour, so did Chrysanthe. While a warrior had his chestplate, she had Aspasia. 

With a small tilt of her chin, she graced the other omega with a courteous smile as she covered Phoibe’s ear with her hand pressing her close to her chest. 

“I suppose logic has it that when one cannot have the item they wish for they turn to other means in pursuit of their needs.”

Kyra’s eyebrows furrowed, her nose wrinkling in annoyance. “At least I don’t have men paying me to get between my loins.”

“Kyra!” Kassandra barked taking a step towards the woman in an attempt to keep the situation under control. 

“No, I don’t think anyone would pay for what is freely given,” Chrysanthe said evenly, “but just like food, the only given for free is the dregs.” 

“Chryssa!” Kassandra turned to look at her with an exasperated expression on her face. 

“What did you call me?” Kyra’s hand balled into a fist as she took a step forward the other one pointing a finger at Chrysanthe.

“I called you nothing, I merely stated the truth about how economics work but perhaps an island such as Mykonos would not understand considering her...current state.”

“Mykonos’s state of affairs is none of your business, Athenian.” Kyra spat.

“Curious,” Chrysanthe mused readying herself for the final blow, “you sound just like Podarkes. One could almost think you’re related.”

“You snake!” The other woman’s temper flared and she launched herself towards the bed only to find herself caught by Kassandra who seemed to struggle to drag the hissing omega from the room.

Chrysanthe watched them with a calm expression though offered no smile. This was _her_ family and no one, omega or otherwise, would take this from her. Where Kassandra fought with her spear and sword, words and wit were Chrysanthe’s weapons.

Head held high in unwavering pride her eyes locked with Kyra’s as the omega tried to claw her way back into the room. _You will not take what is mine. You can try but you_ will _fail._

**Ω**

“Calm yourself!” Kassandra snarled trying to keep Kyra from pushing against her grip to get to Chrysanthe. Kyra was strong from having grown up fighting for survival every day on the streets and Kassandra had to use every ounce of her strength to restrain the omega. If Kyra got to Chrysanthe things would get ugly. _Uglier._

“Don’t touch me!” Kyra’s palms connected hard with her chest sending Kassandra stumbling backwards. The omega’s chest heaved, her fingers curled so hard into a fist her knuckles whitened. 

Kassandra expected Kyra to try and push past her but something coming from the room had them both hesitating. Something angry and wild causing even Kassandra’s alpha to whine and pace in submission. _Chryssa?_

She frowned. It couldn’t be. Chrysanthe was an omega though she could establish dominance over another omega, she shouldn’t be able to do so with Kassandra’s alpha.

“All right.” She held her hands out to the side. “Let’s talk about this, Kyra.” 

“Talk?” Kyra leaned forwards giving an incredulous shake of her head. “That snake knows about Podarkes. _No one_ else knows. No one but Praxos and Kasos. The only way she could know is if she was one of them.”

Kassandra hesitated. There were other ways someone like Aspasia could know about Podarkes but Kassandra knew the truth: Chrysanthe was part of the cult. She was a cultist and though none of the other cultists had known the others’ identities, Chrysanthe knew about Podarkes.

“She’s Aspasia,” she replied evasively, “she knows everything.” 

“She’s a _cultist_ and you’re protecting her.” Kyra threw an arm out in the direction of the room, “who even are you, Kassandra?” She spat out the last words the corners of her mouth pulling downwards.

“No.” Kassandra shook her head anger boiling to life. She had tried to love Kyra, even promised she’d be back because she cared about her. Kyra was the one who had yelled at her to leave and never return. Kyra was the one who had trusted Thaletas not even bothering to hear Kassandra out. “You don’t get to do that.”

“Do what?!” Kyra took a step towards her.

“You don’t get to make me the villain again,” she hissed. 

“You _used_ me, Kassandra.” Kyra raised her voice closing the distance between them. 

“And you used me. To get away from Thaletas and all he expected from you. It was easier to show up with me than to tell him to his face you did not love him.” 

The closer Kyra got, the stronger her scent became and the angrier Kassandra grew. It was a scent she had revelled in, a scent she had found comfort and put her trust in. But when she needed Kyra to trust her Kyra had turned her back on Kassandra. 

“I did not use you.” 

She snorted. “I was valuable to you when there was a rebellion to be won.” Kyra was like everyone else. As long as Kassandra did her bidding she was useful, an ally. After that, she was nothing but a mercenary, a misthios with no scruples. Expendable. 

“I...liked you but all those nights on the roof, and on the beach, it wasn’t me you were with.” The omega’s face contorted with emotions her lips turning into a thin line eyes flickering back and forth. “You were fucking her.” Kyra glared at the room behind her. 

“Don’t be stupid,” Kassandra snarled, “if it really was her I wouldn’t have pulled out.”

The slap came before she had time to react. Pain flared across her cheek snapping her out of her anger as she stared at the omega standing before her. Though Kyra’s eyes flashed with anger, when Kassandra looked closer something else clouded the otherwise intense eyes. 

“I’m sorry, Kyra...I shouldn’t have said that.”  

“I hate it when you say my name.” The omega fisted her hand into the fabric of Kassandra’s exomie her breath hot on her lips. “I _hate_ the way you make me feel. That I still...that a consolation prize is the best I’ll ever be when to me you were…more.”

She pressed her forehead against Kyra’s. To say she had felt nothing towards the omega would be a lie. She had. Admiration, attraction and a sort of affinity she hadn’t felt for many others. She still cared deeply for Kyra more than she was willing to admit but what she felt for Chrysanthe transcended all of that. And no matter how much Kassandra had tried to escape it, tried to ignore and bury it, she found she could not.  

As if an invisible thread that bound them together. The pull more powerful than anything else Kassandra had ever felt. A pull the alpha had never been able to understand. But with Kyra, Kassandra had almost been able to forget about the invisible connection that kept bringing her back to Chrysanthe. If only for a short while.  

“I am sorry for caring more than I should,” Kassandra murmured clasping the omega’s face gently between her hands. “You deserve someone who puts you first. Perhaps if we met in another life things would have been different.”

Kyra’s fingers dug into her hips and Kassandra allowed them the moment. Allowed the omega to press herself close seeking solace and comfort in their closeness.

“I did not come here to fight,” Kyra whispered.

Kassandra let her hands drop to the omega’s hips. “Then why are you here?”

Kyra looked at her then pressing her palm against Kassandra’s chest lifting the other one to caress her cheek. The omega watched her for a long time then pressed her lips against Kassandra’s in a soft kiss. One full of affinity. Full of regrets. “I came to seek your advice about Thaletas but it seems now that this shall be goodbye…”

“If it’s council you seek about the snake amongst you, I shall give it to you.” The voice startled them into a jump and they withdrew from each other as if hit by lightning. Turning Kassandra could see Chrysanthe stand in the doorway, clinging on to the frame with one hand, her other arm slung around Phoibe’s shoulder who looked at Kassandra with something akin to disappointment.

“Chryssa—” The cold stare as Chrysanthe, no, Aspasia tilted her chin upwards silenced Kassandra, the pale face indifferent and unreadable.

“The man you call Thaletas is one of the highest-ranking cultists working directly for a Spartan king.”

Thaletas? Sparta? Sparta that had always prided itself with its disciplined and loyal people and yet the cult had found its way into Sparta as well. The city-state that upheld loyalty and honour more than anywhere else. How? 

“No.” Kyra shook her head. “No, it can’t be.”

“Thaletas of Sparta was sent by one of the kings to sabotage the aid sent to help the rebellion,” Chrysanthe said coolly. “A skilful warrior who cares for no one but Kosmos. This is why he was sent. He was never going to overthrow Podarkes but bring the leader to him when the time was right.”

“You’re lying,” Kyra whispered, her voice shaking.

Chrysanthe’s eyes slid over to Kyra holding the other omega’s gaze with her own. “Thaletas was sent to kill the leader of the rebellion. The daughter of Podarkes. He was sent to kill you.”

**Ω**

“You shouldn’t have been up walking,” Kassandra said softly as she helped Chrysanthe sit back in the bed. The alpha had told Phoibe to walk Kyra to the door and despite Chrysanthe’s glaring Kassandra had lifted her up in her arms and carried her back to bed. She had refused to meet the alpha’s searching eyes the stench of the other omega clinging to Kassandra like a snake protecting its prey. 

“Oh, I apologise for interrupting your _tender_ moment with your omega.” She shook Kassandra’s hand off her shoulder and stared out the window hugging herself. The mask she’d kept on until Kyra had left was slowly falling apart and she refused to let Kassandra see it. See the emotions slowly drowning her. She bit hard into her cheek drawing blood.   

“Chryssa, please, that wasn't what it looked like.” Kassandra sat down next to her and she could see the alpha lift her hand before dropping it back onto the bed. 

“And what did it look like, Kassandra? Like you were kissing another woman? Another _omega_.” This time she looked at the alpha who remained silent. She wanted to scream, the silence too deafening. 

This was what she had left Sapphira for? She wanted to go back. Back to Elysium, back to Sapphira and Kassandra. Stay there and live her life in peace and quiet. Sorrow and hopelessness tore through her chest and she clenched her fist in the sheets. 

“Kyra and I were friends, we—”

She scoffed. “Your scent was all over her. And I am supposed to do what? Just stand right next to you and accept it?” 

“That’s a little rich coming from someone you.”

“ _Someone_ like me?” Her voice went up an octave, fury flaring to life in her chest. “You mean a hetaera? Yes, Kassandra, I let men fuck me for drachmae to get to where I am. I used my body and my malákas mind to keep you safe. To keep _everyone I love_ safe. I did what I had to do.”

“That’s not what I meant, Chryssa.” The corners of Kassandra’s eyes crinkled. “I only meant that—”

“Kass?” Phoibe’s small voice said from the doorway drawing Chrysanthe’s agitated omega from its pacing and she looked up to see the round face look at them, small hands wringing themselves nervously.

“It’s all right, Phoibe,” Chrysanthe said with as much calm as she could muster, “Kassandra was just leaving.” She looked back at Kassandra who caught her eyes. She held them daring the alpha to disobey her unspoken order.

Kassandra could refuse, could use her alpha to put Chrysanthe in her place. That’s what any other alpha would do. Curb the omega who dared to order them around. But instead—much to her surprise—the alpha yielded. Though she could still sense the reluctance. 

She could see Kassandra’s throat bob as she swallowed thickly then gave a slow nod. “Right. I will talk to you later?” 

She didn’t answer just watched Kassandra throw one last glance at her before leaving the room, giving Phoibe’s head a gentle ruffle as she passed. And though Chrysanthe was still angry with the alpha, it didn’t escape her eyes that Kassandra gave Phoibe a small nudge towards the bed. 

“Are you upset with Kassandra?” Phoibe inquired carefully as she crawled onto the bed.

She smiled giving Phoibe’s cheek a gentle stroke. It seemed like only yesterday the young girl had been a small bundle of crying and screaming. Since Chrysanthe had held her in her arms trying to rock the young child to sleep. And now the same child sat on her bed wondering if she was sad.

“It is nothing to worry about.”

Phoibe scowled at her, one eye narrowed in thought. “Grownups never mean it when they say that.”

She let out a sigh taking Phoibe’s hand in hers. The usually effortless motion had her hand trembling as her fingers curled around Phoibe’s hand with painful effort. 

“Kassandra is not in trouble, I promise.” She squeezed the small hand. 

“Then why did you make her leave?”

Why had she made Kassandra leave? When all she wanted was for the alpha to tell her everything was going to be fine. That Kyra meant nothing. That whatever may come they would face it together. Instead, she had pushed the alpha away. It was easier to push than to hold out her hand only for Kassandra to refuse it. 

The sight of Kyra in Kassandra’s arms still burned in her mind and the gentle way she had brushed her lips against Kassandra’s, pure and chaste. Everything Chrysanthe wasn’t as if to remind her of all the things she hated about herself.

“Kassandra had important things to take care of,” she said. It wasn’t completely untrue, Kassandra did have things to deal with. 

“It's because she kissed Kyra, isn't it?” Phoibe said looking forlorn like a child caught between two parents arguing. 

“Come here.” She held her arms out towards Phoibe who quickly tucked herself up close to her.  “Sometimes grownups disagree but that's okay. It doesn't mean we don't like each other anymore, we simply need some time to simmer down. Katalavenis?”

A nod. “Like hot soup?”

“Just like hot soup.” She smiled pulling Phoibe closer and leaned her head against Phoibe’s suddenly feeling fatigue pull at her eyelids. 

She blinked against the comfortable heaviness settling in her head, scared that if she fell asleep she would never wake up again. Imprisoned in the dark space in-between the living and the dead, forever separated from her two families. 

She stroked Phoibe’s soft hair feeling the little girl’s breathing grow heavier until she was snoring softly. Kissing the head tenderly she closed her eyes. If she held onto Phoibe, if she held on hard enough, then she would wake up again. 

**Ω**

“You really do have a way with women, don’t you?” Autolycus grinned as he walked up to her on the small balcony that overlooked the agora. 

She snorted and shook her head. “That is one way to put it.”

Leaning against the simple railing Autolycus jutted with his chin towards the night sky dusted with sparkling dots. “Aenea used to love this balcony. She would spend entire nights out here naming the stars.”

“Aenea?” 

“My wife,” Autolycus twiddled his thumbs lowering his eyes from the sky. “She died when birthing Efrosyni.”

“I’m sorry, I did not know that.” She had been too busy worrying about Chrysanthe and Phoibe to pay the healer much attention despite his best efforts to be friendly.

“It was a long time ago now. You’ve seen my daughter.”

“And that is _all_ I’ve done.” 

Autolycus head dropped forward with a throaty chuckle. “Thank the gods. I dread to think the heartbreak you may have caused in your life.” 

She felt her cheeks flush. “Not that many...I’m not someone who...!” She paused. “I’m _always_ upfront with what it is or isn’t.”

“Always?” He turned to face her, one elbow resting against the railing, an eyebrow raised in amusement. 

She sighed. “Almost always.”

“I used to be a lot like you.” 

She studied him then, the broad shoulders, and a square jaw, covered in a few days stubble and the well styled-moustache. A faint scar ran across his top lip and another right below one of his dark eyes. “I don’t doubt it.”

“Until I met Aenea. Oh,” he sighed wistfully, “you should have seen her when she stepped off the ship at the docks. Hair as black as the night, and a face as beautiful as the winds. And when she spoke, it was like a hymn surely sung at Mount Olympus.”

She smiled at him as he shook his head in wonder at the memory of his wife. “She sounds wonderful.”

“She was.” A half-smile pulled at his lips.

“You must really miss her.”

“Every day, Kassandra. For twenty-four years.” His eyes, two pools of swirling sorrow held hers until she looked away, unable to bear the pain in them. They stood in silence, listening to the waves lapping at the beach and the late-night buzz of people moving around the Chora. 

“Carrying a child to term is very dangerous and when healers believe the mother won’t survive they do everything to save the child.”

She frowned into the dark. “How?”  

“They cut the mother open. It’s what they did to Aenea, I will never forget it…” His face took on a haggard, stricken expression before he looked back at her. “The woman you’re with, she has scars unlike any I’ve ever seen.”

“Scars?” 

“Besides the ones underneath her feet, there is one I’ve never seen on anyone else. Other than perhaps on a most unfortunate soldier.”

“Under her feet?” She swallowed thickly grabbing the wooden railing with her hands, her knuckles turning white. “From the cave?”

Autolycus shook his head. “There were older ones, healed. It’s not uncommon for a master to teach his... _subjects_ obedience by taking away their means of escape…”

“Someone _cut_ her feet?” She hissed out through clenched jaws. 

“Kassandra, the other scar...” Autolycus paused when she snapped her head towards him and for a heartbeat, it looked like he was about to take a step away from her.

“Yes?” Her arms shook, her grip tightening around the railing.

“Is that of a mother whose child was cut out.”

The railing splintered in her hands with a loud crunch, her nostrils flaring. “The fucking cult!” she roared, chunks of broken wood and splinters fell to the floor as she pushed past the healer, Leonidas’ spear clutched hard in her hand.

Thaletas was part of the cult and she would cut him to shreds until he told her everything he knew. And she would enjoy it, would make it last, watch the cultist suffer and bleed as they had made Chrysanthe suffer.  

“Wait.” Brave or stupid—Kassandra couldn’t decide which—Autolycus stepped into the beeline she was making towards the door. He held out a hand. “I did not tell you so that you could wreak havoc upon the man who is supposedly a cultist.”

“Then you shouldn’t have told me at all.”

“I told you because she _needs_ you to be strong for her. Be the alpha she needs. _She_ needs you more than you need revenge.” He motioned with his hand in the air for her to think, to breathe. 

“If Thaletas knows _anything_ …” She started but her voice trailed off at the determined look upon his face.

“They do not take the children unless they think the mother will die. Count that as one time you almost lost your omega. And the other night you brought her to my house, recently awakened from the dead. That makes it two times.”

Two times Chrysanthe had almost died. Two times Kassandra had almost lost the omega and yet, she was alive. Despite everything. She exhaled dropping her hand to the side. 

Autolycus seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and after a while, when she still hadn’t raised her spear again he let his hand drop to the side. 

“If I could get just one more day with Aenea I would not hesitate to take it. You have been blessed by the gods, _take_ it.”

She gave a slow nod, her breathing coming slower. He was right. Of course he was right. It was nothing but a miracle that Chrysanthe was alive. Chrysanthe had given her life to keep Kassandra and Phoibe safe. She had given _everything_ to keep Kassandra safe. Nothing else mattered. Not now. 

“Now get going, don’t stand here and waste precious time.” A fatherly smile flashed across his lips and she clasped his arm, right below his elbow. 

“Thank you, Autolycus.” She gave his arm a squeeze.

“Don’t thank me. Fix my railing.” 

**Ω**

She moved through the dark house with little effort when a crashing, loud noise sounded from the room followed by a shrill cry. 

“Sapphira!” 

Kassandra darted through the living room and into the room. “Chryssa?” 

A terracotta bowl lay shattered on the floor the omega twisting and turning in the bed. Sweat soaked Chrysanthe’s still swollen and bruised face. Kassandra sunk to her knees next to the bed, putting her hand on the omega’s cheek.

“Kardia mou,” her thumb caressed the cheek stained with tears, “I’m here, I’m right here.” 

Chrysanthe’s eyes peeled open, confusion, fear and sorrow washing off her in waves. “Kassandra?” Her voice quivered. “Sapphira...I…” 

“It’s all right,” she hushed the omega still caught somewhere in-between dreams and reality. Her fingers curled around Kassandra’s wrist, tears rolling down her cheeks. 

“Please…” Chrysanthe whispered tugging at the wrist, pale brown eyes awake and pleading with her. 

“I’m sorry,” Kassandra whispered as she climbed into the small bed made for one but somehow fitting three people. “For everything. For not finding you sooner, for—”

Her breath caught in her throat when Chrysanthe pressed herself closer burying her face at Kassandra’s neck. She held her breath wondering if perhaps she was having another dream, one so vivid she could swear it was real. But then Chrysanthe wrapped her arm around her neck as a sob, desperate and heart wrenching, ripped from her lips. She wrapped her arms around the shaking body in her arms.

It felt like a breeze brushing the tree crowns, like releasing a breath that had been held too long, like coming home after a long odyssey. She exhaled pulling Chrysanthe closer burying her nose in the thick, dark hair. It smelled of honey. Of Chrysanthe. It smelled of home. 

“I _love_ you,” she whispered against Chrysanthe’s hair feeling like the weight of all of Mount Taygetos had lifted from her shoulders. “I’m sorry about before, Kardia mou. I’ll do better, I promise. _I_ will be better.”

**Ω**

**Elysium, 407**

“You should hurry.” Persephone’s voice startled the alpha and she spun on her heels. Persephone stood with her hands behind her back, chin tilted downwards solemnly. Gone was the mischievous spark that sometimes flickered in the Isu’s eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“When Chrysanthe has returned to her body, time will be re-written.”

Returned her body? “But I cremated her body. There is no…” She trailed off as realisation hit. “There is no body in my time. There is nowhere for her to go.”

“A new timeline will spring from her resurrection. One that erases the previous one.”

“You _lied_ to me!” The alpha took a step forwards Leonidas’ spear pointed at Persephone’s throat.

“I never said your timeline would be saved,” Persephone pointed out though her words were laced with regret. “The you in your past will see Chrysanthe again. That you may still succeed, but you will not. Cannot. You will be erased.”

“Then…”

“You should hurry, if there are people you need to say goodbye to, do it now.”

“Shit!” She spun on her heels launching herself towards the portal that swallowed her whole. Heartbeats passed until she was finally spat out tumbling onto the ground. Her hands digging into damp moss and earthy soil. 

“Phoibe!” She scrambled to her feet, spinning around until she saw it. A yellow light chewing away at everything, like flames burning through the edges of a parchment. Her gaze flickered wildly from side to side when it landed on the small figure lying on the ground. “Phoibe!”

She raced over to young woman dropping to the ground next to her pulling her into her arms. “Papágalo mou,” she whispered.

The trees and ground glowed with yellow Isu light before disintegrating into fine particles that floated into the white emptiness that grew around them. 

“Mater?” Phoibe blinked in bewilderment where she lay on her back, paralysed and just like the entire world around them, slowly fading into nothingness, disintegrating into beautiful, glowing particles. 

Beautiful Phoibe who had fended for herself her entire life. Phoibe who had grown into one of the finest warriors in Hellas. One who fought with bravery and honour. 

Kassandra stroked her cheek, her own tears spilling  down her face, falling onto Phoibe’s round cheek.

“Mater!” Phoibe cried.

“I’m right here.” She kissed the wet cheeks, holding Phoibe tighter.

“I’m sorry, I should have found you sooner,” Phoibe whispered, her eyes downturned with regrets. 

“No, _I_ should have found you. I _never_ should have left you and I should have told you,” her voice broke then and she shook her head, “I’m so proud of you, Kardia mou. So very proud.”

Her hands faded, a light tickle buzzing through them, the last of Phoibe’s face breaking into countless glowing embers that rose towards the white sky. She tilted her head backwards watching the yellow particles rise towards the emptiness like golden pillars climbing towards the gods. 

“We’ll be together again soon,” she whispered to the sky feeling herself disintegrate and fade from existence, “and I will do better. I promise. _I_ will be better.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you thought things were gonna get fluffy, didn't you?
> 
> Please drop me a comment below!  
> You don't need to be a member. Easy peasy!


	14. The Name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Less than two week for an update? You know...miracles do happen?
> 
> 1\. Thanks for all the support and love. My omega fics have been drawing some hate and smack talk about me which really got me down but seeing all the love really made me feel better. But I honestly thought of just dropping all of it because of the negativity and belittling attitudes. So thank you. to each and every one of you who read, leave kudos and comment. Especially those of you who comment and let me know what you like or what got to you in the chpaters. You gaiz make my stony, cold heart all fuzzy and warm and happy.
> 
> 2\. Many of you have asked me if I'm writing books or encouraged me to do so. Not sure why I haven't said this until now but I am in fact working on two books.  
> One about my transguy Jake who gets stuck in the middle of London Underground during a zombie outbreak. Aaaand...a wlw omegaverse inspired by this fic.  
> So, if you like my stuff consider supporting me by following me on twitter (@lmjuniper) for more updates about my books.
> 
> 3\. Curious of what Chryssadra looked like when they were young? See below!

**IMPORTANT NOTES:**  
**Parthenos** = Virgin  
**Parthenia** = virginity. Virginity in AG was not the same as nowadays where virginty=abstinence, but rather if the society and ones oikos (family) knew that intercourse had occurred a female would have ended her parthenia. If however, no one knew, one was still a parthenos despite having had sexual relations. In Athens however, someone retaining her parthenia was a woman who lived with her father and never had sex.    
**Obols** = coin, 6 obols= 1 drachmae  
**Tritartemorion =** coin, 4 tetartemorions= 1 obols  
**Skatá** = shit  
**Ma dia** = By the gods! (AG cursing)   
**psolí** = AG for penis/dick  
**koléos** = AG for vagina literally meaning 'scabbard'

 

* * *

 

**Kephallonia, Metageitnion 434 BC**

Kassandra kicked up dirt as she walked the dusty road towards Kausos, the goats bladders weighing heavy in the sack slung across her shoulder. She was meant to take them to Samis but the half day’s journey it took her to get there would mean staying away from Chrysanthe much longer than she liked. The merchant there may not pay as well but at least Kausos was only a candleburn away. And she could pick up Chrysanthe before making her way back to their house. 

Three days had already passed since she last saw the omega and an itch had her body almost aching with longing. Why did Chrysanthe have to help out so much at Thaddeus and Lysandra’s? She sighed. Lately being away from the omega felt like an eternity. The days and nights dragged and the more she tried to distract herself the stronger the pull to go and find Chrysanthe became. 

Part of her wanted to go to Thaddeus and Lysandra's house once the moon stood high, sneak inside through the small window into Chrysanthe and Agape’s room and whisk Chrysanthe away when no one was awake to stop her. Much like Hades had done Persephone. Though not against her will, Kassandra amended with a grimace. Countless nights as she lay alone in the dark she dreamed of paying off the nobleman in Megaris so that the omega could stay with her. So that they could stay together. Live happily in their small house. They didn’t need much. Just each other. 

Her chest gave a tingle and she rubbed at the spot once again feeling enamoured with the thought of being near the omega again. Of running her hands and lips across Chrysanthe’s slender body. Across the nipples that stiffened under the gentle but firm touch of Kassandra’s lips, trailing all the way down across the ribs and the taut stomach to the silky smooth valley that tasted so distinctly of the omega. Tasted of Chrysanthe as the omega buried her hands in Kassandra’s hair pulling her lips flush against the sensitive spot that Kassandra dragged her tongue across drawing the most wonderful sounds from Chrysanthe's lips.

“Ugh!” She growled in frustration. The instinct of being with her omega of rutting her, mating with her was getting increasingly harder for her to ignore. And if she wasn’t careful all of Kausos would notice the result of her current predicament.    

Wiping sweat from her brow she redirected her thoughts to the last text Chrysanthe had made her read. A fascinating text written by the last known Milesian philosopher Anaximenes. 'Fascinating' being Chrysanthe’s word to describe it. If anyone asked Kassandra—which rarely happened—she would use something along the lines of a load of skatá. She grinned at the thought of the omega’s expression if she were to say that. How her nose would scrunch up between her eyebrows, eyes narrowing, her bottom lip no doubt jutting out in an indignant pout. 

Kassandra laughed to herself. Chrysanthe loved her philosophers and the omega soaked up their words, playing with them, her sharp and brilliant mind always finding ways to explore their thoughts. Sometimes Chrysanthe would agree but often times she would not and then she would explain to Kassandra where they had gone wrong. Why their philosophy was illogical and needed to be improved. Her eyes would go bright as she paced around their house, arms gesticulating wildly, her blonde locks bouncing around her shoulders.

“Are you listening?” Chrysanthe would ask.

“Of course I am,” Kassandra would reply when in fact she was mesmerised by the woman in front of her not caring the slightest about the fault in philosophy. She could surely spend an eternity watching Chrysanthe. Never would she tire. 

She clutched the bag a little tighter. Goats bladders wouldn’t buy Chrysanthe her freedom but perhaps if Kassandra joined the army she could earn enough? She had been trained by one of Sparta’s finest generals after all. Or maybe one of the rich families in Kausos needed a guard dog? She could do that.     

She narrowed her eyes at the hamlet drawing nearer with each step. Kausos had a few rich families but Sami was probably the better choice if she wanted to find work. Which is why she should have brought the goat bladders there. 

 _Next full moon_. She’d go there the next time the moon stood high in the sky, round and full.  When Chrysanthe was too busy to see her for a few days. With a sharp nod, she pushed the thought aside picking up her speed. She only had a short distance left then she could hand the bag to the blacksmith, get her drachmae and go wait for Chrysanthe. 

“Kassandra!” A light voice called out to her and she turned to see a young woman waving her arms at her. 

Callidora, the wine merchant’s daughter. They used to play together when they were younger until her parents realised Kassandra was a simple street urchin. She was no longer allowed to visit their house after they found out. They weren’t wealthy enough to be robbed blind by someone like Kassandra.

“Hey.” She gave a wave of her hand though continued her walk. 

“Why the rush?” Callidora breathed as she jogged up to her.

“These are heavy and I have things to do.” She shrugged.

“Is that why I haven’t seen you around for ages?” Callidora flicked her head and fired off a smile at Kassandra. 

She rolled her eyes. Callidora always gave her that smile when she wanted something. Be it attention or a favour. “What do you want?”

“Do I really need to want something from you?” She looped her arm through Kassandra’s and leaned into her. It took Kassandra by surprise and she almost drew to a stop to stare at Callidora where she clung to her arm, her head leaning against her shoulder.

Callidora was a year younger than Kassandra but almost as tall and smelled faintly of thyme and olive oil. And she had since long figured out that the way she sometimes looked at Kassandra could sway the alpha into doing her a few favours here and there. 

“You _always_ want something.” A shrill cry from Ikaros echoed through the afternoon air. “Can’t lie to Ikaros.”

“You are both right this time.”

“I knew it.”

“Your company.” Callidora tugged at her arm steering her towards the agora with determined steps. 

“My company?”

“I want to know _everything_ about this girl you’re seeing.”

She almost halted to a stop. She and Chrysanthe had been careful not to be seen together and would only meet up outside the Chora. Not that Thaddeus and Lysandra seemed to mind Chrysanthe’s, and sometimes, Agape’s absence. 'Studying' the girls would tell them and spend the night at the outlook.

“Girl?” She managed to not stutter too much.

“Kass,” Callidora quirked an eyebrow at her, “I don’t see you for the longest of times, then one night, Hesperos tells me he’s seen you skulking around the outskirts of the Chora. With some girl.”

She swallowed thickly. Someone had seen them. But had they seen who the girl was? That it was Chrysanthe, the niece of Thaddeus and Lysandra awaiting her marriage to a Megarian nobleman? The sun suddenly felt hotter, her skin uncomfortably hot and damp underneath her exomie. Was she sweating? 

“Hesperos is drunk half the time, I wouldn’t listen to what he says.”

“Ah, but you see, he wasn’t this night and he said he had rarely seen a beauty such as this one.” Callidora pushed. 

“I’m not sure that’s how I’d describe myself. I was no doubt covered in goat’s guts still,” she replied flatly.

Callidora laughed and shook her head. “Admittedly you are one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen,” this drew a blush from Kassandra, “but I think we both know Hesperos wasn’t talking about you.”

“Right, well, I have to hand these things off and you don’t want your parents to see you with me.” Kassandra nodded towards the agora a short distance away from them and tried to wiggle her arm from Callidora’s iron grip. 

“I’m too old to care about what my parents think. Old enough to marry in fact…” Callidora’s voice dipped at the end of her sentence. “But I have yet to been given an offer worthy to accept.”

“That’s...er...unfortunate?” 

“Unfortunate?” Callidora gave a soft chuckle.

“I mean, you are pretty and nice, I’m sure _someone_ will ask you sooner or later,” Kassandra amended seizing the opportunity to steer the conversation away from Chrysanthe. 

“Either way, is this girl everyone keeps whispering about _the one_?” 

“ _Everyone?_ ” She turned towards Callidora unable to keep her exasperation from her voice.

“Aha!” Callidora gave her a victorious push towards the blacksmith who looked up at them from where he sat. “Melanthios! Kassandra is here with the goat bladders.”

The blacksmith, an old gruff looking man with a big beard and a sooted face marred by wrinkles and scars frowned back at her. “But I don’t need goat bladders…”

“Of course you do.” Callidora flashed him a bright smile dropping the bag at his feet. 

A snort. Another grumble. A glare at Kassandra, then a resigned sigh. “All right.” He shoved a meaty hand—blackened by only the gods knew what—into his coin pouch fishing out four coins. 

Kassandra frowned. Only one drachmae and three obols. It was less than half of what Ariston of Sami paid.

“Well?” He motioned with his hand towards her. It was still more than a day's worth of pay and she had saved a lot of time not travelling all the way to Sami. 

“Yes, that’ll do.” She held out her hand and he dropped the coins into her palm. “Chaire.” She called over her shoulder barely having time to get the words out before Callidora dragged her through the agora towards the cliffs outside the chora.

“Now.” Callidora pulled her down to the ground with her until she sat firmly on the cliff next to her. “Tell me _everything_ about this mystery girl.”

“I…” She sighed looking out across the clear blue water that sparkled with the shine of a thousand brilliant gemstones, the waves rolling lazily across the surface. If she looked closely she could see the sea bottom below them. “I can’t...we’re not supposed to see each other.”

“Why not?” Callidora’s eyebrows knit together. 

Kassandra swallowed thickly chewing the inside of her lip. She didn’t like to think about that. It made her feel strange. Made her chest buzz with an unpleasant ice-cold feeling despite the hot sun almost baking them alive where they sat on the cliff.

Callidora, sensing her sadness, tilted her head giving her arm a light squeeze. “What is it, Kass? You can talk to me. I won’t tell anyone else, I promise.”

“It’s the same as always.”

Callidora gave a confused shake of her head. “As always?”

“I’m not good enough for her.” 

“Says who? Did...she say that? Is she not treating you right?”

Kassandra snorted. “She treats better than anyone ever has...she makes me feel...like I belong somewhere.”

“With her.” Callidora smiled. “So why do you think you’re not good enough? You are. You are hardworking, and you’re kind. What more could someone need?”

She let out a laugh, a bitter one, picking up a twig from the ground. “Dora, even your parents didn’t want me around and that was when I was just a child. If I asked you to marry me tomorrow, would they truly approve? Would I be good enough for you?”

“Yes,” Callidora said with a fire Kassandra had never heard before. “What my parents think, I do not care about. They are not the ones who will provide for me once I am married. If you asked me right now, I would be proud to say yes.”

“Even if she wanted to she couldn’t.” Kassandra broke the twig between her hands then tossed it across the edge of the cliff watching it until it broke the surface. 

“Her parents don’t approve?”

“Her parents sold her. To a  Megarian…” 

“Oh no.” Callidora shook her head. “Kass...that’s bad. What if someone finds out.”

“I know…”

“Well, at least the two of you haven’t, you know.” Callidora wiggled her eyebrows. Scratching her neck Kassandra looked away from her drawing a sharp gasp from Callidora. “Kassandra!”

“It...just happened…” It was a feeble explanation one that had Callidora releasing her grip of Kassandra so that she could cross her arms in a glaring display of dismay.

“‘Just happened’? What, you fell and just happened to land with your psolí in her koléos?!”

“That’s not what I meant!” Kassandra growled trying to keep the laughter from her voice. Not only had Callidora always been the voice of reason, but she had also always been the voice of inappropriate things to say. 

“That is the _worst_ excuse I have ever heard. If you ever get charged with murder please don’t try to answer the charges yourself.” Callidora grinned before turning sombre again. “Seriously though, Kass. What you’re doing...it’s dangerous, you could both get into serious trouble.”

She sighed. Though she wanted nothing more than for Chrysanthe to be hers, for them to live happily ever after, Kassandra knew deep down they would never be able to do so. She had worked a whole day trying to catch as many goats bladders as she could, she had spent the next day trekking to Kausos and for all of that, she got paid less than two days worth of drachmae. Drachmae that would go towards more oil, and food leaving her with an obol, or if she was lucky, two to set aside for a pair of sandals. Her hunting grounds were growing increasingly difficult to traverse without sandals but sandals were expensive. She sighed. Even if Chrysanthe got a job somewhere they would never earn enough to pay off the nobleman.

A nobleman. With enough drachmae to give Chrysanthe anything she wished for. Anything she pointed at. She would live a good life. A rich life. Not struggling every day to get by or eat only three olives because work had been sparse and hunting fruitless. For a candledrop she imagined Chrysanthe pregnant, skinny and haughty looking, too weak to give birth. That was the reality of what her life would be like with Kassandra. Chrysanthe would be better off with the nobleman. She would be alive and well. And that was all that mattered to Kassandra. The only thing that would ever matter. Even if it would break her.

“You’re right…” 

Green eyes looked back at her with concern. “You have to end it before either of you get caught.”

End it. The words sounded strange in her ears even though she knew it was the truth. She had to end it but the thought of it hurt. Ending it knowing Chrysanthe was still on Kephallonia. So close but so far away. Kassandra swallowed thickly remembering that night during Chrysanthe’s heat. When they had promised each other to always love one another, to never let go. _I love you._ Chrysanthe had whispered like a gentle prayer as Kassandra moved inside her with slow strokes until she was completely spent. She rubbed her face and pulled her knees up towards her chest the thought of losing Chrysanthe unbearable and frightening but at the same time the only right thing to do.

“I know you’re lonely,” Callidora said quietly putting her hand on Kassandra’s knee, “and I know it hurts you but Hesperos already saw you two and I think he would recognise her if he saw her again. If not for your sake, at least do it for her.”

For her. For Chrysanthe, she would do anything. _Anything_ to keep her safe. “I will.” She nodded the strange tingling back in her chest, right below her collarbone. She grimaced and rubbed at it. “I’ll go do it tonight.”  

**Ω**

“Can you believe it?” Agape muttered tossing a rectangular piece of fabric onto the side of her bed. “I have to travel to Ithaka and back because Lyss wants to impress that hideous Dareios.”

Leaning over from where she sat, Chrysanthe plucked the fabric from the bed and folded it in her lap. It was a thin linen peplos in a dark red colour that suited the older girl’s bronze skin. Chrysanthe had always been envious of the naturally warm, brown colour of Agape’s small frame feeling like a ghost standing next to her. 

Thaddeus and Lyssandra were going to be meeting with one of the cultists of the Eyes of Kosmos. To see if he could possibly get them into the inner circle. And Agape was going with them to make him a bit more...agreeable. As a gift of sorts.

Chrysanthe was to stay home and watch over Phoibe. After a few days ridden with a light fever and sickness, it had been decided it was better for everyone if she stayed behind taking care of the small child. She enjoyed caring for others and did not mind being left behind to take care of Phoibe for a few days but despite that guilt pulled at her at Agape’s words. 

“I could always speak with Lysandra, perhaps I could go instead?” Chrysanthe suggested and put the neatly folded peoplos on the bed in front of her. 

A snort escaped Agape. “And taint your chastity? I think not.”

Chrysanthe blushed, quickly averting her eyes picking at the folded peplos. She was supposed to be a virgin, her parthenia untainted and pure for the general who bought her. She was anything but. At least by Athenian standards. 

“If you really don’t want to go, I have no doubt I could sway Lysandra to get a better bid from Dareios…” Too busy picking at the peplos she missed the lump of fabric flying towards her. 

It hit her square in the face and was followed by Agape’s howling laughter as she snatched the fabric from her face glaring daggers at the other girl. “Agape!”

“Chryss,” Agape sat down on the bed next to her and wrapped her arms around her, “I love you and though you are as clever as you are beautiful...you are _not_ very discrete.”

“Discrete?” 

“You’ve been spending how much time with Kass lately?” Agape asked as if she was quizzing Chrysanthe on the rules of mathematics. 

“You spend time with her as well.”

Agape chuckled. “How many nights have _I_ spent alone with her?”

She knew the answer to that but remained silent.

“Would it be correct to say I’ve spent all of ‘not a single night alone’ with that handsome young alpha who could no doubt go an entire night if allowed to?” Agape’s eyes sparkled.

“Agape!” Chrysanthe hissed.

Snickering Agape got back up from the bed to ruffle through the drawers. “But she can though, can’t she?” 

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” Chrysanthe crossed her arms.

“Really? Because I swear every time I see you coming back from your ‘studies’ you walk funny.”  

“Agape, I will strangle you if you don’t cease your...your…” She frowned trying to find the right words.

Thick, dark hair spilt across Agape’s shoulders as she leaned back over the bed dropping a set of earrings onto the peplos Chrysanthe had folded. “Chryss, I see the way she looks at you and I’m not blind. Don’t you think I see how you are around her?”

Chrysanthe crossed her arms refusing to confirm Agape’s suspicions. “And how am I around her? Pleasant as we have been taught to be? It is simply good practice.”

Smiling Agape sat back down on the bed. “Free. With Kassandra you are free.”

She blinked. Free. With Kassandra. What a wonderful life it would be. Rich or poor, what did it matter if she wasn’t free? If she wasn’t with Kassandra. 

“So you know…” she said quietly looking at Agape expecting to be met by a disapproving glare. Instead, she saw only kindness. Just like that first day she'd arrived in Athens not knowing anyone. 

The young girl who met her by the dock had taken her hand and led her through the big city showing Chrysanthe all the important merchants, which parts to avoid and where to find the best scrolls. In many ways Chrysanthe had never let go of her hand, always keeping an eye out for Agape, always knowing Agape did the same. Though only sisters by tale she could not love Agape any more than if she had been her real sister.

“ _Of course_ I know,” Agape rolled her eyes, “now, tell me about Kass’s…” She held out her hands, palms facing each other, a mischievous grin on her face. 

Laughing Chrysanthe shook her head and Agape pulled her hands further apart. She shook her head again to which Agape raised an eyebrow pulling her hands even further apart. Chrysanthe bit into her lip, shook her head again drawing a gasp from Agape and when she finally nodded Agape mouthed a silent. “Ma dia!”

She could feel her cheeks grow hot as Agape stared at her, then back at her hands, then down below Chrysanthe’s waist. “How does it even…?" She made a forward motion with her hands towards Chrysanthe's hips. "I’ve seen many men but none like _that_.”

“Well...she _is_ an alpha…” 

“Well,” Agape threw her hands up in the air, “this explains _so_ much. The funny walk, the smitten look on your face. I would be smitten too!”

“I _do_ not walk funny afterwards!” Chrysanthe protested slashing with her hands through the air. “Kassandra is nothing but a gentle alpha and would never...be too rough. Unless I ask her to.” She fired off a grin at Agape whose mouth fell open.

“You little harlot!” Agape covered her mouth with her hand then dropped it back into her lap. "Do you though?"

Chrysanthe could feel the heat return to her cheeks. "Why must you ask me such things!"

"Because that red shade makes those fair cheeks all the prettier." Agape laughed drawing an onslaught of pillow hits from Chrysanthe. "You know this won't help, I'll just ask again until you answer."

"Ugh!" She growled in a most unladylike manner dropping the pillow into her lap. "There may have been a few times…" 

"A few times? Before we know it you're going to be more experienced than me." 

"Perhaps I already am," she pointed out turning serious once more. “Which is why, if you really don’t want to do this, I can do it.”

“Don’t be daft. You only have this short time with Kassandra, I would never take that away from you. And while Dareios may be slimy and pompous he _is_ clean and nice smelling. That’s something. Besides, this heat is killing me and they have lovely bathhouses on Ithaka,” Agape sighed and fanned herself. “And now that my bleeding has passed I can go without everyone making a fuss about how very little I’m bleeding.”

“Bleeding?” Chrysanthe frowned. Heat. Bleeding. Her heat had come and gone. Her heart started to hammer in her chest. Her bleeding had not. 

“Thaddeus kept insisting that if my next bleeding last for less than three days I’m to—” Agape fell silent brows furrowing. “Chryss?” 

How long ago since had she been in heat? Moons. A full lunar phase? More than that. A chill crept up her spine and she shook her head. It couldn’t be. She grimaced. It _could_ be. Even if Kassandra had only finished that one night inside her, during her heat one time was enough. And they had known it. Oh, how stupid they'd been, how silly!

She put her hand her stomach. Did it feel different? Agape’s golden eyes dropped to  Chrysanthe’s hands. Her eyes widened and she shook her head. 

“No...your morning sickness...” 

“I...” Chrysanthe wracked her brain trying to think of something, anything that could explain the absence of her otherwise so regular bleeding. Instead, she thought of Phoibe and how much stronger the instinct to care for the small child had become over the past lunar phase. 

“Please tell me you didn't see her when you were on your heat.” Agape gripped her hands in hers. “Chryss? Did you lay with Kassandra during your heat?”

She nodded silently. 

“But you didn't mate with her, right?”

She pulled her hands from Agape’s hands then and covered her face. She couldn't bear to look at her. Embarrassed and ashamed for having been so foolish. And the result of that foolishness was possibly growing inside her. The sickness put down to the light fever...it wasn’t just sickness. She could _feel_ it.

“Ade, Chrysanthe! Why would you do that when you _knew,_ you both knew, what your duty to the cult is?” 

“Because I love her…” she whispered then, with a whine, she curled into her own lap where she sat on the bed.

Agape sighed and wrapped her arms around her pulling her into an embrace. “I know you do.”

“What am I going to do?” She hadn’t thought things through at all. In the moment, during her heat, feeling Kassandra so lose to her, on top of her, in her, all she wanted to do was to stay with the alpha. Live happily ever after, raise a family. And as Kassandra had pulled her flush against her, twitching inside her, Chrysanthe had wished for nothing more than to mate with the alpha. But she had not thought about the cult, about what would happen if she were to become pregnant with Kassandra's child. 

Chrysanthe belonged to the cult and so would the child she carried. Besides that would Kassandra even want a child? Was the alpha ready for the responsibility? Even if she was there was little chance of Chrysanthe carrying the child to term. She was to leave for Korinthia at the end of the summer. To start her work as a hetaera. To be bed by an Athenian general. 

The Athenian general Kleon who had paid for her chastity, her parthenia. It was her duty to give him what was rightfully his. Who was she to deny him what he had paid for? No one knew about her and Kassandra. No one but Agape. And the general would never know that Kassandra had come before him and so to him and everyone else, she would still be a parthenos. At least that had been her plan. A plan that would not work should she turn up with a round belly ready to give birth. 

“You have to tell Kassandra,” Agape said stroking her hair.

“This child will never be ours. The cult...it’ll claim it like it has claimed Phoibe already.”

“Perhaps but you owe Kassandra the truth, she deserves it.”

“I know, but what if she…” She couldn’t finish the sentence. Didn’t dare to, uncertain she could cope with the hurt, the pain it would bring.

“What if she doesn’t want it?” 

Chrysanthe shook her head. What if Kassandra had just gotten caught up in the moment, in the alpha desire to mate her omega, what if it was only their nature, their instincts that had them acting so recklessly that night. What if it was a mistake. What if _she_ was a mistake. 

“If she doesn’t want it…” Agape said slowly when she didn’t reply, “then perhaps it's for the best?” She finished quietly still stroking her hair. 

Closing her eyes Chrysanthe slumped into Agape. Kassandra was supposed to meet her and Phoibe outside the Chora after sun fall. She’d been looking forward to it, been counting down the days until she’d find herself in Kassandra’s arms again. Now dread filled her chest. Perhaps she should just not turn up. Leave a scroll telling Kassandra she was sick and couldn’t come see her. She grimaced. It wouldn’t help. Kassandra would worry, would want to check on her, want to care for her.

“Are you seeing her after we leave?” Agape asked.

Uncurling herself Chrysanthe sat back up with a nod. “After sun fall.”

“Have you…” Agape paused taking a deep breath, her eyebrows furrowing. “Have you thought about what you will do at the end of the summer?”

“I am bound to the cult. We both know this.” 

“You’ve never thought about...leaving?”

She frowned. “Leaving the cult? I cannot, you know this. They own me. They own us both. We can no more leave the cult than the sun could choose to not set or rise. And I could not run. Kephallonia is only so big for a hetaera to hide on. A hetaera without any drachmae or means to remain hidden.”

“If that is your answer, then you know what you must do,” Agape said a sad expression crossing her face. 

Chrysanthe looked away from the older girl. Summer was drawing to its end and whether she liked it or not, her life was not hers. She would have to leave Kephallonia. Leave Kassandra. Maybe she would do the alpha a service not telling her what grew inside her? Maybe it would cause Kassandra more pain to know that she would be leaving carrying their child. 

She shook her head. It was cruel, the thought of not telling Kassandra, the orphaned Spartan who longed for her family. 

“You’re right. I will tell her tonight.”

**Ω**

“Are you sure about this?” Callidora asked as the waves rocked the small boat they stood on.

“How hard can it be?” Kassandra peered into the crystal clear water. Zotikos, the fish merchant, had been complaining about losing his favourite anchor somewhere near the reefs while out fishing. The blacksmith, he grunted, wanted six drachmae for the job of making him a new one. 

Stopping in her tracks Kassandra had turned around and said that for four drachmae she would dive down and get it for him. Four drachmae was a lot but would still save him two. 

“Hard?” Callidora exclaimed with a worried scowl. “There are _sharks_ down there. That’s why Zotikos didn’t get it himself in the first place!” 

“I don’t see any…” Kassandra narrowed her eyes trying to discern any movements below the surface. The auburn and orange sky mirrored itself on the waves rippling the water making it difficult to see all the way to the bottom. 

“That’s because they are _predators_ , Kass,” Callidora hissed. “They’re not going to just announce their presence.”

She snickered and shook her shoulders. “Well, I have my spear. If don’t come up for...a long time and you see lots of blood...assume I’m dining in the Elysian fields.”

Callidora curled her fingers into a fist and punched her hard on the shoulder. “That’s _not_ funny.”

“Ouch!” She rubbed her shoulder with a grimace. Since when had Callidora become so strong? “If I can’t swing my spear and I die, we both know who to blame.” And with that, she pushed off the boat with her feet diving into the water. 

“You better not die!” She could hear Callidora shout after her.

She inhaled as much air as she could filling her lungs to the brim before she broke the surface surging towards the bottom of the sea. 

Saltwater burned her eyes when she opened them, blurring her vision at first. She blinked forcing her eyes to adjust. 

The sandy seabed covered in seagrass and large clusters of coral and kelp stretched out before her. Every here and there dots of red algae resembling tall grass flared up between the rocks and from the seabed itself. 

She turned her head sideways and there, behind the red algae, a few arm strokes ahead of her lay a massive coral reef bursting with an explosion of colours. Vibrant green, red, and yellow, schools of colourful fish darting between a golden burst of sea anemones, and there amongst it, wedged into a crack between two rocks, glinted something in metal. Zotikos’s anchor. 

She kicked through the water, giving a wide stroke of her arms pushing her closer to the anchor. Stretching her arm out her fingers brushed against the metal and she used it to pull herself the rest of the way. It sat twisted between the two rocks and all it needed was a— 

A dark shadow passed over her and she froze whipping her head upwards towards the surface. Nothing. Her eyes darted back and forth trying to see beyond the darkness that had settled around her along with the setting sun above her. Maybe she’d imagined it. 

She returned her attention to the anchor and pulled at it with both hands using all her strength. She’d already been underwater for a few handfuls of heartbeats. She would have to work quickly if she didn’t want to go back up for air. The anchor barely budged. 

She pushed her feet against the rocks and used her entire body as counterweight wiggling the anchor back and forth trying to twist it. It was coming loose. Slowly, slowly. She grimaced a stream of air bubbles pouring from her mouth when she saw it. The small box half-buried in the sandy bottom. What was in it? 

All the stories Nikolaos had told her as a child, about seafarers and their treasures had her curiosity itching. She could just about reach it if she stretched her arm out. Still holding on to the anchor she reached for it her fingers barely a breath away from it. 

 _Come on!_ She wiggled her fingers at it as if it would magically lift from the sandy bottom and float into her hand. Her lungs were burning, running out of air fast when the anchor gave a dull pop sending her floating through the waters. _Yes!_ She grabbed the box and it slid from the sand without much protest just as a shadow passed over her, the hairs on her neck suddenly standing on end. She hadn’t imagined it. 

Its body was white like a ghost as it whipped its tail through the darkening waters, circling her hungrily. 

 _Maláka!_ She gripped the spear in her one hand and the anchor in her other, then tucked the box under her arm and kicked hard through the water. If she could swim closer to the shore maybe she could get away from it. 

It jerked around with an eerie snap of its body then like an arrow it shot through the water straight at her. Panicked she spun to face it, spear held out in front of her. Usually, foes hesitated when they saw her spear but not this one. Its jaw flew up ready to bite into whatever part of her it could get. 

She screamed, what little air she had left leaving her lungs in one big cloud of bubbles, back-peddling through the water. Teeth as sharp as blades flashed before her. She reacted by instinct, jamming the anchor at the wide jaws. The force from the collision sent her arms vibrating, a sharp tooth slicing through the flesh on her arm. Tufts of red blossomed from her flesh and the shark’s mouth where the anchor sat wedged. It shook its whole body furiously, her blood enticing it further. 

Dots swam before her eyes, dark tendrils webbing into her vision as she took her first gulp of salty seawater, her mind panicked and frenzied, desperate for air. She kicked harder, clawed at the water pleading with Poseidon to spare her. Another gulp. Another kick. Two more gulps. Another kick and then cold air washed across her face. Coughing and spluttering she inhaled large gulps of air almost choking on it.

“Kassandra!” Callidora yelled her voice tinged with panic and she followed the sound of it, kicked with her legs using her one free arm to push herself through the water until she reached the boat.

“Ma dia! What happened?” Callidora breathed pulling her onto the small boat. 

She lay still for the longest of time just breathing clutching the spear and box as water dripped down her face.

“You’re bleeding!” Callidora’s hand closed around the torn flesh on her underarm. It stung but she was too tired to care. “We have to get you to a healer _right now_.”

Callidora’s grip around her arm disappeared and the boat started to move. She’d lost the anchor and her four drachmae. She looked at the box. But she had a dirty old box and her grandfather's spear. She laughed. What a maláka she was. No wonder she would never be good enough. 

“Why are you laughing?” Callidora asked with a hint of annoyance.

“What else am I supposed to do?”

**Ω**

She had been lucky that the night was an exceptionally warm one and she didn’t have to wait long until her exomie had dried again. Adding to it, the healer had taken pity on her and only asked for a single tritartemorion for his troubles of patching her up. 

“I hope that manky old box was worth it,” Callidora had said, kissed her cheek softly then left Kassandra by the edge of the Chora where she was going to meet Chrysanthe. To tell her that they should end it. That they couldn’t see each other anymore. It was for the best.

She looked at the peculiar blue and golden stone pendant in her palm. The box though covered with barnacles and rust contained a handful of strange-looking coins and a single pendant with a blue stone speckled with gold. She clasped her fist shut when she caught sight of a movement in the corner of her eye.

Chrysanthe rocking Phoibe in her arms, pacing back and forth inside the one room of their house. The omega hushed and swayed trying to soothe the crying baby. Her long hair pooled across her shoulders, the oil lamp casting a warm glow on her face. The omega was beautiful, the way she held Phoibe in her arms, the way her scent sang of motherhood, of family, calling to Kassandra’s alpha. Something like this could be hers. One day. Though never with Chrysanthe. 

The thought sobered Kassandra up and she walked over to Chrysanthe. Who looked up at her, cheeks rosy, her eyes...Kassandra frowned. Uncertain? 

“You’ve been quiet tonight,” Chrysanthe said keeping her voice low though her otherwise so confident gaze flickered. 

This was it. This was when she told Chrysanthe the truth, that they had to stop. She had waited long enough. A content sigh drew her attention away as Phoibe nuzzled close to the omega’s breast, asleep and content. Like a child safe in its mother’s arms. She looked back up at Chrysanthe, the big eyes blinking back at her like a tired but happy mother. And just like that, Kassandra’s chest filled with such warmth and affinity all she could do was pull the omega into her arms and kiss her forehead. It drew a purr from Chrysanthe where they stood, Kassandra embracing the omega and the small child. Like they belonged. The three of them. Like a family.

“I have something for you,” she murmured against Chrysanthe’s soft hair. 

“For me?” Chrysanthe looked up at her.

“I found it today at the bottom of the sea outside Kausos.” She held out her hand and opened it revealing the pendant hanging from one of her leather hairbands.

Chrysanthe straightened. “Fengarí mou, that’s a sapphire. I can’t possibly…”

“ _Please_ ,” she whispered her voice growing thick with emotions, “if you keep it close to your heart...I will always be with you, wherever you go…” She looked away then, the thought of Chrysanthe on a boat towards Megaris left her eyes damp and her throat burning.

“Put it around my neck,” Chrysanthe said softly. 

She slipped the necklace across the omega’s head and carefully lifted her thick curls until it hung neatly around her neck.

“Look at me,” Chrysanthe demanded a little firmer and when Kassandra did her eyes were confident, defiant. “It doesn’t matter where I’m to go because I’m not leaving.”

**Ω**

**Korinthia, Hekatombaion 433 BC**

“It’s getting closer, are you sure you’re ready?” Selene asked as she placed a few petals on the altar. 

Chrysanthe nodded eyes fixed firmly on the garland of wool she’d left for the goddess. An offering to watch over the daughter she lost. To watch over Sapphira. 

“I know what I must do.” She lifted her chin in defiance, her mind going over her plan once again with ice-cold determination. Which cultists to sway, which sages to eliminate and which men to get close to. Which ones to persuade with her intellect and which to persuade with her body.

The first man on that list: Kleon of Athens, the general who bought her parthenia. The general who waited at the temple to claim his prize after nearly a year's wait. Though he had grown impatient, the promise of her parthenia had kept him somewhat at bay while she recovered from her illness. While her body healed. 

She had taken that time to learn everything about the general. About the man behind the mask. His ambitions, his desires. And she knew. He was the first one to sway. The one to pave her way into the cult. 

The cult she would renew. And if it did not wish to be renewed, to change leadership...she would burn it to the ground. To avenge her daughter, to keep Kassandra safe. 

Whatever came next, all her choices, all her decisions and actions, would be for her family. The one she left behind on the poor island of Kephallonia.

“And have you decided on a name?” 

She smiled, her dyed, dark locks falling in her face as she gave a hard nod. “The one I picked yesterday.”

“And remember,” Selene put her hand on her arm, “this is your shield, your armour. To survive you must _never_ put it down. It will be a part of you, an extension of yourself. It will keep you alive.”

She turned to the older hetaera, one of her only two real friends. The only people she could trust. 

“Thank you, my friend.” She pulled Selene into her arms, held her hard and with a firm nod let her go. “I will see you after I’ve met with this Kleon.”

Selene gave her arms a final squeeze. “Be safe, Chryssa.”

She smiled. A humourless smile. “My name is _Aspasia_.”     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, hey there!  
> Don't forget to drop me a comment. They make me so happy!  
> Don't know what to say? Here are a few suggetions:  
> 1\. What you liked  
> 2\. What was funny?  
> 3\. What was sad?  
> 4\. Did anything give you the feels?


	15. The Golden Flower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poseidon's balls, you're all awesome!  
> I love how much so many of you interact with me.  
> This chapter is a little heavy in some places. But I've tried to sprinkle in some less heavy moments.
> 
> In case anyone ever wondered what Chryssa's song is: Gold - Echos
> 
> I've been told by some readers that they would like a timeline to get a better overview of when things happen.  
> And as I aim to please, next update will come with a timeline! Will post it on my deviantart where it's easy to post large image files that can be downloaded.  
> Also, out of curiosity, did anyone find any of the clues as to who Chryssa was in the first chapter? There's quite a few of them in there.
> 
> Finally, massive thanks to Jackie Selah for putting the final...name title in my head. 
> 
> Anyways, thank you all so much for reading, commenting and leaving kudos!

[An Unfinished Life Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5zzWyQLwpzZNpB05wwINAa?si=Q7eDet6BShyWDaFRJAVM4g)

[Gold by Echos](https://open.spotify.com/track/4kg8ad6EbiOh5t9VVfBlDm?si=m1RnOCzoRwC0bxKHoGPMng)

**GLOSSARY**

**mou =** my

 **obol** = coin, 6 obols= 1 drachmae

 **Lunar phase =** 29.53 days

Promo image for this chapter:

* * *

 

 

**Mykonos, Hekatombaion 426 BC**

Chrysanthe hated sleeping. Hated how Hypnos robbed her of the ability to read the room, meticulous eyes constantly observing, analyzing everything. To gauge the symposia goers reactions. To keep herself safe, always keeping her guard, her shield up. 

Her eyes flickered open at the sensation of warm skin pressed against hers. Perikles? Kleon? Another symposium goer? Her mind raced, unprepared, and unwilling. She jolted up and away from the body. 

“Chryssa?” A drowsy voice murmured. A drowsy, sweetly familiar voice and she blinked against the dark. Kassandra. “Are you all right?” A hand touched her arm and she flinched involuntarily.

“I can’t see anything,” she whispered, frightened the voice was a trick. “I can’t see.” The darkness was too thick and impenetrable. Just like when she’d left Elysium. 

A familiar scent reached her nostrils. Kassandra’s pheromones soothing her as Kassandra shuffled away from her.

The pheromones dissipated and Chrysanthe stared into the pitch-black room, heart pounding loudly in her ears making it difficult for her to hear Kassandra. Where was she? Why had she just left?

  
“Kassandra?” Her voice whispered into the black void.  

A small glow of light appeared somewhere in the living room growing in size until the alpha walked through the doorway. Her hair hung from a loose, messy bun, her lips and eyes puffy from sleep. 

“Where did you go?” Her voice came out more high pitched than she’d intended and Phoibe stirred next to her. Her gaze flitted towards the dreaming child. Her, Kassandra and Phoibe sleeping curled up in the small bed. Like a family. It had felt cramped when she woke up. The bodies pressed tightly against her, frightening her. Now that she knew it was them and the alpha wasn't there anymore it felt empty and cold. 

“I only went to get some light, Kardia mou,” Kassandra's voice soothed her as the alpha sat down next to the bed. She slumped her back against the cold mud wall, her brows wrinkled with worry. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Did she want to talk about it? The eight years that had passed? Cold fingers raked her skin leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. There were too many memories. Of Perikles. Of faceless customers buying her company. Paying for her to converse with them and if they wished for it, for her to take them to bed. Of Kleon and the night at the symposia when—

She slammed the lid shut quickly pulling at Aspasia. Her armour, her shield. Aspasia who had kept her sane, kept her focused on her goal. The stateswoman who had bested Aristophanes in philosophical arguments so many times he had written countless playwrights to discredit her name. To shame her. 

Aspasia did not care. Neither his nor Hermippos’s words bothered her. Aspasia's strength went unmatched by anything or anyone else. If someone were to come at her with a blade, Chrysanthe doubted the woman would even flinch. She feared nothing. _Felt_ nothing.  

“No.” She shook her head. “I must have had a bad dream.” 

Kassandra tilted her head, her eyes that never missed a beat, piercing Aspasia where she sat. “You don’t need to pretend with me.”

The words almost caused her to give in but Aspasia smiled and shook her head. “I assure you, I’m quite all right, it was simply a bad dream that frightened me.”

Kassandra dropped her chin towards her chest a smile ghosting across her lips. “You forget who you talk to, Aspasia…”

Chrysanthe blinked. Puzzled and confused for the slightest heartbeat until the alpha tapped her nose. “You’re wearing her scent. It’s…different.”

Aspasia faltered and Chrysanthe grasped desperately after her. She could feel the woman slipping from her grasp, the dull ache that throbbed through her every limb making it difficult to focus. 

“You don’t have to pretend you’re all right.” Dark, tousled hair that had slipped from the loosely held together bun fell across the alpha’s face, her eyes soft and gentle as they looked back at Chrysanthe. 

“You don’t understand,” she whispered her chest feeling as if it might split open and she struggled to breathe, “I do have to pretend. I...I have to hold on to her.” 

She could not let her go, the strong, beautiful woman Aspasia was despite the things she had to endure. Despite the choices she had made, the lives she had ruined trying to control the cult. Aspasia was the one who’d help Chrysanthe get back on her feet in Korinthia, who had supported her throughout her years with Perikles.  

“To who?”

“Aspasia.” She pulled the thick blanket into her lap as if it might warm her where she sat, shivers running through her body. 

“Why?” the alpha asked though her voice demanded no answer. 

“If I let her go...I have nothing else to hold on to.”

“Then hold on to me…” Kassandra murmured, reaching out her hand towards her. Not touching her only putting it on the bed, palm turned upwards. She took it. Without hesitation, anchoring herself to the warmth from Kassandra’s hand and how softly her fingers curled around her own. 

“Why are you sitting on the floor?” she asked carefully.

Kassandra’s eyes flickered. “You seemed bothered by my touch...I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 

She laced her fingers with Kassandra’s and tugged. “I _want_ you near me. Besides...how am I to hold on to you if you’re all the way over there?”

“Are you sure?” The alpha asked hesitantly but when Chrysanthe gave another tug, she pushed herself off the floor and wedged herself into the bed. 

The bed was too small for the three of them but Chrysanthe didn’t care. Instead, she tucked herself close to Kassandra who wrapped her arms around the omega.  

She had missed it. The way Kassandra touched her, held her. Missed the way her chest rose and fell, her heart the steady rhythm that would put Chrysanthe to sleep every night at their overlook. She had pressed herself so close to Kassandra back then, held her so hard, in fear of losing her. Now clinging on to the alpha, she feared losing herself. 

 **Ω**     

The first thing she noticed as golden rays filtered through one of the windows was the familiar scent and the soft skin pressed against the tip of her nose. And shortly thereafter the warm, safe feeling of Kassandra's arms wrapped around her. The alpha's fingers buried themselves in her hair, her cheek resting against Chrysanthe's forehead. Her other arm curled around the omega’s waist keeping Chrysanthe pulled close. She couldn’t move even if she’d have wanted to. The alpha’s grip was firm and strong and another weight pressed at her back. Between her shoulder blades. Phoibe. 

She couldn't really remember how she got to where she was—sandwiched between the muscular alpha and Phoibe. The latter curled up against her back, forehead pressing between her shoulder blades. She held her breath. Last time she had found herself in a similar situation was eight years ago. The same night Chrysanthe realised she was pregnant.

Kassandra had picked her and Phoibe up at their regular meeting spot. Chrysanthe remembered it so well it might as well have been yesterday. Kassandra barely kissed her and before Chrysanthe could get a word out had set off towards the overlook. Once there, the alpha had busied herself with oiling and taking care of her weapons. Perplexed why Kassandra barely even looked at her let alone touched her. The omega had feared perhaps Kassandra could scent her pregnancy and did not know how to tell Chrysanthe to leave. That she had no interest in having a child. 

Phoibe had cried—as always—and Chrysanthe had paced, humming to her and rocking her back and forth. And then Kassandra had appeared in the doorway with an odd expression on her face. Forlorn like someone who’d been given terribly bad news. 

“You’ve been quiet tonight,” she’d said, her stomach twisting at the way Kassandra took a deep breath. The alpha was going to tell her something. Judging by the downcast eyes it wasn’t anything good.

Phoibe had finally fallen asleep then and her sigh had drawn the alpha’s attention away from Chrysanthe where she stood waiting for the world to be ripped from beneath her feet. But instead of telling Chrysanthe to leave, that she was no longer wanted, Kassandra looked up from Phoibe, and before Chrysanthe had time to react pulled her into her arms. Her alpha dominant, proud, and powerful. The scent of an alpha mater. _An alpha mater_.

There could be no doubt after that. Chrysanthe was pregnant with Kassandra’s child. She would have told her, but then Kassandra pressed the sapphire pendant into her hand and Chrysanthe forgot all about it. Instead, they put Phoibe to bed and then she felt herself hoisted onto the workbench outside their house, Kassandra’s lips kissing, nipping and caressing. The alpha's lips trailed along her jaw and down her neck. All the while the alpha’s hand snaked under Chrysanthe’s chiton. Her fingers dragging up the inside of her thigh until they found her, wet and swollen.

Perhaps they’d both had things to worry about during the day but that night, Kassandra had kissed her, touched her, with a sense of desperation. One that mirrored her own. They had clung to each other, fingers digging into the other’s skin, lips locking in bruising kisses as Kassandra snapped her hips against her, Chrysanthe rolling her own to meet the alpha’s hard thrusts. She could feel the alpha starting to twitch inside and with a choked cry Kassandra’s hips stuttered before she had time to pull out.

“I’m sorry!” Kassandra had looked horrified. “I...I…”

She’d stroked her cheek and pulled her in for a kiss, keeping the alpha firmly in place. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Because you’re staying.”

“That and because you owe me a—” Phoibe had woken up then. Alone and without her parents, screaming at the top of her lungs. And so instead of Kassandra paying her dues, they’d hurriedly cleaned themselves up before rushing to the little girl side.

After a candleburn of comforting little Phoibe, they’d fallen asleep. Tired and exhausted. All three of them curled up together on the small bed. She had thought by some miracle they would stay together, that she could leave the cult, convince Thaddeus and Lysandra to let her stay and help with Phoibe. She’d thought they’d have the rest of their lives together. But love—she found out—made one foolish and fate was a cruel thing. 

She had left for Korinthia only a few moons later. The only thing left to remind her of Kassandra, the child growing inside her, and a blue sapphire pendant. To keep close to her heart. 

The sapphire pendant! Chrysanthe brushed her fingers across her chest. She wasn't wearing her chiton. Her chiton had gotten ruined in the dungeons and no one but Chrysanthe knew about the pendant tucked into the hidden pocket. If they'd thrown away her chiton then the sapphire would be gone.

The movement combined with the lack of space woke the alpha and Chrysanthe could feel Kassandra shift underneath her. She held her breath waiting to see if Kassandra would go back to sleep. Still half asleep the alpha growled her grip of Chrysanthe tightening.

“Kassandra,” she kept her voice low as to not wake Phoibe. The alpha’s growl deepened until she pulled at Kassandra’s face rubbing the alphas nose against her neck. At the soft spot where ear and jaw met. “Agapi mou…”

Her scent was strong there. It would calm the alpha who’s instinct seemed to be in overdrive from the night before. The growl died in Kassandra’s throat and the omega gave a shiver as the alpha nuzzled her nose close. 

“Chryssa?” Kassandra murmured, her lips caressing the spot. Her voice was raspy and thick with sleep and it sent a pleasant tingle darting up the omega’s neck. “If this is a dream, I’m going to kill something.”

“Not a dream,” she murmured, hoping her voice didn’t betray her feelings the same way her fingers that roamed up the alpha’s neck did. Despite the years that had passed, it was as if Chrysanthe had never left Kephallonia. As if she had never left Kassandra’s arms. Although the alpha’s body had changed, had tightened into solid muscles. Muscles that tensed like chiselled rope underneath the skin Chrysanthe ran her hand across. 

Lying pressed so tightly together, her hand absentmindedly digging itself into Kassandra’s hair, their legs entangled, had her chest fluttering with a tingling sensation. Common sense no doubt escaping her body just like it had all those years ago. 

Kassandra shifted next to her, something hard pressing against the omega’s thigh. She would have thought it was the alpha’s hand if both of them weren’t already holding her. 

“I see you’re still an early riser…” she hummed with a light push of her thigh. The pressure drew a hiss from the alpha whose free hand pulled Chrysanthe’s face in for a kiss. She dug her teeth into her lip stopping the alpha. 

“We're not alone.” She glanced down at the small hand on her stomach.

“Malaká…” Kassandra muttered frustration tinging her words but then she frowned. “Your face…”

“What?” Chrysanthe asked in half-annoyance, half-worry when Kassandra used her hand to turn her face from side-to-side.

“It’s almost healed.”

She’d been awake for less than a moon and hadn’t looked at herself in a mirror yet but she could tell the damage was extensive. Her entire body—flesh and bones alike—had screamed with burning pain. _Had_ screamed _._ It still ached, but it had dulled not sending shooting pains through her ribs every time she took a breath.

“How is this possible?” Kassandra’s voice was full of wonder. The kind Chrysanthe had never heard coming from the alpha before. “Your bruises and cuts. They’re all gone.” The alpha’s thumb brushed her cheek. “Do you feel strange? Does it hurt?” 

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? I can get Autolycus to look at you.”

“I’m fine.” She tried again.

“Okay but you _died_ then came back _,_ and that’s not possible, really, so maybe we should have Autolycus—”

She silenced Kassandra with a kiss using both her hands to hold her face still. The alpha’s lips were achingly soft, pliant, and careful. The kiss like the gentle aftercare an alpha would provide its omega during a rut. Tender, caring, and warm. 

The way Kassandra kissed her awakened the most primal needs within Chrysanthe. She broke the kiss. Reluctantly. Holding Kassandra’s eyes with her own. “I’m _fine_.” 

“But what if you’re not…” 

Chrysanthe smiled at the mighty Eagle Bearer, her voice as small as the Goat Killer’s. As Kassandra of Nowhere.

To the cult, to the people who heard of the legendary misthios, Kassandra was an abomination or a great mystery. A legend. A goddess walking amongst men. But she was just a woman. She bled just like a human, hurt and cried like one. Had dreams just like one. Dreams and fears. And where she lay, her face close to Chrysanthe’s, her eyes wrinkled with worry.

“Will it calm you if I let Autolycus look at me?” 

A nod. Then the rustling of linen sheets as the alpha tried to slide from the bed without waking Phoibe. Though when she pulled her arm from underneath Chrysanthe the little girl’s hand twitched.

“Kassandra?” Phoibe sat up, her hair ruffled and messy as she rubbed her eyes.

“Go back to sleep, Phoibe.” Kassandra motioned with her chin for the little girl to lie back down again. 

“Where are you going?” Suddenly the little girl was wide awake, and she crawled across Chrysanthe where she lay. 

“It’s all right, I’m just going to see if Autolycus is awake.”

Phoibe’s head spun towards Chrysanthe. “Is Kass leaving?” Phoibe asked clearly not taking the alpha’s word for it. 

The omega stroked the messy hair from Phoibe’s forehead, slightly clammy from sleeping in the warm bed. “No, Phoivoula mou. Kassandra is not leaving.”

“Then why does she have her spear?” Phoibe scowled at the alpha’s hand clutching the ever-present spear of Leonidas. 

“Because,” Chrysanthe gave a small smile, “even big, and brave alphas like Kassandra gets scared. And when we get scared, we hold on to the things that make us feel brave again.”

“But…” Phoibe lowered her voice to barely a whisper, “Kass doesn’t get scared.”

“Oh, I do.” Kassandra took a step towards the bed.

“You do?” 

“Yes, have you ever heard of the little monster Phoibiliki?” The alpha raised her eyebrows with exaggerated enthusiasm and Chrysanthe had to bite down on her laugh. 

“Phoibiliki?” The little girl’s mouth fell open.

“The most vicious creature in all of Hellas.” The alpha drew nearer and crouched by the bed. “It is said to be a little, little girl. With brown hair, this tall,” she held her hand up in the air as Phoibe crossed her arms with a smirk.

“Kassandra…” Phoibe rolled her eyes.

“It’s true! She comes out _every_ morning, spitting and hissing until...you...feed her!” She reached out with her hands tickling Phoibe who shrieked with laughter and threw herself back at Chrysanthe drawing a surprised and pained yelp from her.

 _Sorry!_ The alpha mouthed with a guilty-looking expression. 

“All right, you two nightmares!” She laughed as Kassandra rolled Phoibe off her. “I’ve shared my bed long enough. Why don’t you feed this little one and make sure we don’t have to suffer the wrath of Phoibiliki?” 

“Did you hear that,” Kassandra leaned sideways towards Phoibe who put her small hand in hers, “trying to get rid of us so soon. Rude.”

She smiled watching the two of them—tall handsome alpha and young child—stroll into the kitchen hand-in-hand. Something flashed on the floor and she looked down to see the spear. “Agapi!” She called after Kassandra who turned her head to look at her. “You _forgot_ your spear?”

“No,” Kassandra said with a lopsided smile. “I already have what I need to feel brave again.”

**Ω**

She’d found Autolycus in the kitchen with Efrosyni who had given her an amused look then sent her and Phoibe to get fresh fruits and vegetables from the agora. Efrosyni had tried to offer Kassandra drachmae but the alpha had refused. Efrosyni, a proud woman of the household, had glared at her. But when Kassandra pointed out Autolycus was caring for Chrysanthe and they were letting them stay in their house, Efrosyni’s expression softened. 

“Then since you’re so grateful, you wouldn't mind mending the broken roof while you fix mater’s balcony railing.” Efrosyni had smiled ever so politely though her eyes sparkled with jest. “And maybe get us some chicken for that lovely soup of yours you’ll make tonight,” Efrosyni called over her shoulder. 

Which was how Kassandra found herself weaving through the agora looking for the fattest chicken she could find. Phoibe’s small frame darted back and forth between the stalls. After a solid promise that she wouldn’t try to steal _anything_. Although Kassandra couldn’t exactly blame the small child. Stealing was a way of survival for children who had no family. Kassandra would know. 

When she had been Phoibe’s age she too had wandered the agora looking for opportunities to steal food. Rodents were hard to catch and not very filling. In fact, it hadn’t been that long since she too was forced to steal from the market every now and then to get by. But—she reminded herself—she only stole from those who deserved it. Only the rich. The ones who wouldn’t suffer losing a loaf of bread or two. And never, _ever_ from Callidora. 

She grinned at the thought of the young girl who had grown into a mature woman. As bullheaded and blunt as ever. And beautiful. She shook her head. It wouldn’t do to think about Dora. She was safe in Sami, far away from the war. And she had more suitors than her wine stall could provide for. Whatever happened, Kassandra had no doubt in her mind, Callidora was doing just fine without her. 

She let her gaze wander across the colourful fruit and vegetables in the stalls, taking in the savoury smell of meat being grilled. Saturated canopies hung above them, swaying briskly in the wind providing the market with some much-needed shade from the blazing sun above them. 

“So, I heard the meeting with Kyra went down…” Barnabas’s voice interrupted her thoughts. 

“Yes.” She agreed. “Down is a fairly accurate description.”

The old man chuckled, his eyes wrinkling in amusement. 

“Thank you for your support, Barnabas…” She glared at him and crossed her arms.

He put his hands on his hips and flashed her a toothy grin. For someone who had seen so much the old man never missed an opportunity to smile. It came so naturally to him. The faith in the gods. In life. The faith that everything that happened did so for a reason. 

Kassandra had found it simple at first but now, after spending years with the old man she admired it. Most people turned to the gods wanting something. As did Barnabas, but he seemed to find solace with them. Knowing that they were there. For the old sailor that was enough. He did not need proof the gods existed. And perhaps that’s why he always seemed to find it. In the oddest places. In the way the waves beat against the shore. In how the sun mirrored itself on the surface of the Aegean. ‘ _I see wonders every day, Kassandra,’_ he’d tell her. And she believed him. Just like he believed in her.

“I _always_ support you, Kassandra, but…” he bobbed his head from side to side with a shrug. “You did bring two unmarked omegas to the same island… both of whom you had… well, you know.”

“I—!”  She growled. “It was life and death.” 

“Yes, so Autolycus tells me.” 

“Shut up,” she muttered turning into a row of stalls containing all sorts of meat. Lamb, fish, ibex, bear, and at the very end of the stalls stood cages with big, brown chickens. 

“Kassandra? Can I ask you something?” Barnabas asked as they pulled to a stop in front of the cages.

“I have a feeling you’re going to regardless of what I say.”

He shrugged casting a glance to their side where Phoibe had found a small group of children to play with. “When we landed in Megaris…”

“Yes?” She pointed at one of the chickens tossing four obols to the merchant.

“You spoke of first love.” He continued.

“I did…” She watched the merchant as he strode over to the cage and plucked the chicken from it. It squawked in protest.

“And am I right to assume that Aspasia was this first love?”

The merchant tensed for a split candledrop and looked at them in shock. “Barnabas,” she snarled with a glare at him.

Undisturbed he nodded towards Phoibe. “I can’t help but wonder if she is…”

“She _isn’t_ ,” she muttered as the merchant shoved the clucking chicken into her arms. “But she is family. Blood or no blood ties.”

“Then why were you so reluctant to bring her before?”

“Because I was scared,” she confessed. Something she couldn’t have done with anyone else but—she looked at the old man—it was Barnabas. She could tell him anything. 

From the moment they had met Barnabas had treated her as if she was more than a misthios. At first, it had been a simple arrangement where he said he was in her debt for saving his life. And she needed a boat. But as time went on, she came to enjoy his constant presence next to her on the Adrestia. Enjoy his stories and the time they spent talking about their lives and soon she found she could not imagine the Adrestia, or her life, without him. 

“Scared?”

“That I would make a mess of things. That I couldn’t be what she needs and...of losing her.” They watched Phoibe as she darted through the agora, a handful of children following her lead. Kassandra smiled. Always the leader, getting everyone else into trouble. 

“Well, if I may be so bold,” Barnabas said as they followed from an appropriate distance, “I think you’re doing just fine. _More_ than fine.”

“I don’t know…” She sighed. “Give me a target to kill and I’ll do it, and even if I fail the first time I can always try again, but...there are no second chances with this. What if I just make things worse for her? I can be a good friend but can I be a good parent figure for her?”

“I may be speaking out of turn but I’d like to think I have a little experience with something similar,” Barnabas watched her through the corner of his eye. “I don’t mean to say that I am anything like a pater figure for you...the gods know I have done nothing to deserve such a title...but I've found just being around and listening has worked very well. Not that you see me as your...or anything…”

She pulled to a stop looking at him, the corner of her lips tugging upwards. “You know, when I was a kid, I used to walk through Kausos at night and look in through the windows. I would smell the rich flavours of food cooking and hear all the voices coming from inside. And I used to imagine what it was like. Being in there. Being with a family again. I tried to remember what it was like to have parents.”

The morning breeze tugged at Barnabas’s grey hair as he tilted his head at her.

“It wasn’t until I met you that I remembered…”

“Well…” Barnabas blinked his eyes growing damp as Kassandra stepped up towards him, nudging him with her shoulder. He let out a shaky chuckle and patted her on the back before continuing their stroll behind Phoibe and her new friends.

“I want that for Phoibe.”

“And you’re doing a fine job, Kassandra,” Barnabas reassured her. This time his voice was more confident and proud. Like a pater watching his first grandchild.

“But you know...since you’re the proud grand pater...it means babysitting duty is on you now.” She grinned and turned to walk back to Autolycus’s house.

“What?” Barnabas halted.

“I got a chicken to kill,” she held up the chicken in her arms drawing another cluck from it. “It’s babysitting or chicken killing.” 

“But I didn’t say I wanted to babysit!” Barnabas called after her as she walked off sniggering to the slight panic in his voice.

**Ω**

To say that she was beautiful still did not do the omega justice.

Kassandra watched her silently from the living room. Chrysanthe sat on the bed leaning against the pillows. Her head turned towards the window, her profile silhouetted against the bright sunlight highlighting the plump lips and the distinct nose bridge. Kassandra had always loved it despite Chrysanthe having expressed her dislike for its less straight-lined appearance. But the alpha could never get enough of it. Looking at Chrysanthe was like looking into the bright sunlight. Everything else became but pale shadows in her radiance. 

Her curls that had once been dark as the night had faded into a light-brown and her slender fingers rubbed absentmindedly at her chest. It brought back a memory of Chrysanthe in their house. Of when she was sat at the small desk, reading her scroll picking at the pendant Kassandra had given her. The pendant. She still hadn’t given the omega her pendant back. 

She dug her hand into the small leather pouch strapped to her side, fingers brushing against the cold gem. Plucking it from the pouch she dropped the necklace into her palm. She’d almost lost a limb trying to get it. She’d been stupid. Even where she stood in Autolycus's living room, she knew this.

What a failure she’d felt like that day. A sapphire was a small fortune for her back then but no one in their right mind would believe she’d just found it at the bottom of the sea. An orphaned and a thief. They all saw her the same way. The merchants, Callidora’s parents, even Markos. But not Chrysanthe. Never Chrysanthe. 

The omega had berated her for her recklessness but listened with great enthusiasm all the same. Curled up in bed, her back pressed into Kassandra’s chest, Phoibe cradled close to her chest. Kassandra smiled at the memory and the odd twist of fate. To find themselves together again. The three of them. Once again curled up in a much too small bed. What could life have been like if Chrysanthe hadn’t left? If the cult hadn’t forced her to.

The thought sobered her up. Chrysanthe was a cultist. Part of the very cult Kassandra was trying to wipe out. Did the omega know about Deimos? About Alexios? Agape said Chrysanthe had loved her but a small part of the alpha still wondered...was it really happenstance that day they met in the cave? That they fell in love or was it all planned? Like with Perikles. 

The very heartbeat she let the thought slip into her mind, the omega turned her head towards her. Her eyes studying Kassandra with a curious expression.

“Are you going to come in or simply stand there until the sun sets?” A small kink of a smile played on Chrysanthe’s lips. It was the kind of smile that made the omega’s eyes sparkle. The kind that made the alpha’s head spin and her chest shudder with a pull so strong she could almost touch it.

“I found something…” she said slowly and walked up to sit down on the edge of the bed. An awkwardness had settled between them and she gave an uncertain smile. 

“My pendant!” Chrysanthe looked at the necklace in her hand. “You found it?”

Kassandra shrugged and leaned forward slipping the necklace over the omega’s head. “Guess I’m good at finding things.”

Chrysanthe put her hand on Kassandra’s, laced her delicate fingers with the alpha’s big, calloused ones. “Just like you found me…”

“You kept the sapphire. All these years.” She barely dared look at Chrysanthe still scared the omega would say it was all a mistake. That it wasn’t the same pendant. But Chrysanthe squeezed her hand harder and nodded. 

Chrysanthe had kept the sapphire. Her sapphire. A memory from the night before played at the back of the alpha’s mind and she frowned. Chrysanthe’s nightmare. She’d used a name then, called it desperately. 

“Chryssa...who is Sapphira?”

The light-brown eyes, no longer sooted by kohl, lifted towards Kassandra’s and a wrinkle formed between the dark brows that curled with uncertainty. “How do you know that name?”

“You cried it...last night in your sleep.”

Chrysanthe’s gaze darted back and forth, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. “I...Kassandra…” Chrysanthe all but whispered, the former stateswoman who spun fancy words and arguments at a loss. A tremble ran through her lip as she averted her eyes blinking furiously. 

Kassandra felt her breath quicken. The sapphire pendant kept hidden in a pocket inside the chiton, Sapphira, the name uttered in such grief and sorrow. Could it be…? 

Shame and despair washed in thick waves from Chrysanthe’s omega, her shoulders curling forward. “Chryssoula mou.” She slipped her hand up the omega’s neck and into the thick curls gently pulling her closer. 

The omega released her hand and curled her fingers around Kassandra’s arm, the one holding the omega close. Warm tears fell onto the alpha's tanned skin, right above the scars Kassandra had gotten that day in the bear’s cave. Then the omega’s free hand laced her palm around Kassandra's hand. The alpha pressed her forehead against Chrysanthe’s letting the omega lower their hands until Kassandra’s palm rested against her stomach. 

Kassandra felt her throat tighten like a noose and she swallowed against the burning dryness. She pressed her palm against Chrysanthe’s stomach, stroking it with her thumb as if the child that had been theirs could somehow feel it. Only then did the omega allow the sob that ripped from her lips and she curled in on herself, covering her mouth with her small hand. 

“Kardia mou…” The alpha pulled her closer, wrapped her arm around the shoulders that shook. Kissed the wet cheeks. Chrysanthe’s hand still holding Kassandra’s pressed tightly against her stomach. Like an omega mourning the loss with her mate. For the first time in eight years. 

How could Kassandra have been so stupid to think Chrysanthe had planned their meeting? Tricked her into falling in love. Pretended with Kassandra as she had with Perikles. _I’m an idiot._ Kassandra pulled Chrysanthe even closer, this was her omega, her mate. No cult, no Perikles or another omega would come between them again. 

She let her alpha wrap itself around her mate wanting to protect her from everything. From everyone. Pushing her pheromones at the omega. Soothing and comforting until Chrysanthe’s body stopped trembling. Until the omega breathed slowly through her mouth, hiccuping every now and then. 

“I’m sorry,” Kassandra said in a quiet voice, “I never should have done this to you...”

The omega drew back in her arms, eyes puffy, nose red and swollen and yet the most beautiful sight in all of Hellas. She pressed her palm against Kassandra’s cheek.

“I _wanted_ you to. I knew the risk, we both did, but I was happy to take it. With you. I would have done anything for you. Gone anywhere.”

“And you did...and I should have been there for you.”

“No.” Chrysanthe shook her head. “They would have killed you. Of all the things I could lose...you were not one of them…that’s why I left. I had no choice.”

“The fucking cult.” There was no point in pretending she didn’t know Chrysanthe was a cultist.

Guilt flashed across Chrysanthe’s face. “So, Agape told you this as well…”

Kassandra nodded before feeling her brows furrow. How could Chrysanthe know the other hetaera had told her about the pregnancy? About why Chrysanthe had to leave.

“And did she tell you what happened after I left?”

She shook her head. “It wasn’t her story to tell…”

A sad smile ghosted across the omega’s lips. “I was nearly three lunar phases along when I arrived in Korinthia.” Chrysanthe’s voice trailed off and Kassandra waited, allowing the omega to gather her thoughts and perhaps her strength. 

“Do you know what they give to women who need to end a pregnancy?”

“I'm not sure.” 

“The juice from Ecballium mixed into water. In very small doses.” Chrysanthe’s thumb stroked Kassandra’s hand that still rested on her stomach. “I took it...and it was supposed to be done. She was supposed to be gone.”

“Sapphira,” Kassandra murmured as the omega leaned into her, resting her head against Kassandra’s chest.

A nod. “But it didn’t work. No one understood why. They thought I hadn’t taken the draught. So they made me do it again.”

“They?” 

“Lysandra and Thaddeus. If they returned me with child, they would have failed Kosmos. They needed to make sure I was ready for...” 

Kassandra closed her eyes remembering Agape’s words. That an Athenian general had bought Chrysanthe’s parthenia. Perikles. If Deimos hadn’t already sent him to the underworld, she would go back to Athens and kill him. In fact, she contemplated finding the gates to the underworld, find him and kill him _again_. And then she would find Thaddeus and Lysandra and...she stopped herself. This wasn’t about her need for revenge. This was about Chrysanthe. 

“You don’t have to tell me, agapi mou. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do ever again.” She squeezed the omega in her arms. 

“I do have to tell you...she was your daughter too. She was _ours_ ,” Chrysanthe said, her voice thick with emotion. “I drank the potion again and this time Lysandra made sure the dose of Ecballium was bigger. Stronger. And this time we were all sure it would be it. But I kept growing. Our child was stubborn.” Chrysanthe let out a soft chuckle. “Just like her malákas alpha mater.”

Kassandra smiled leaning her cheek against Chrysanthe’s thick curls. “But I bet she would have your brilliant mind…” The omega’s hand squeezed her hand then.

“The cultist they couldn’t figure out why such a large dose of the plant did not terminate the child. They were panicking. What good is a virgin whore if she turns up pregnant? It was then I realised why it didn’t work.”

“Why?” The alpha frowned.

“Because of you. Because of the blood that runs through your veins. You were thrown off Mount Taygetos and survived. I’ve seen you heal faster than humanly possible… just like Deimos. Like your brother.”

She tensed at the word. So Chrysanthe had known about Alexios. And she hadn’t told her. “You knew?” Bitterness seeped into her words. 

“I tried to tell you but someone found out...Thaddeus found out. I did not dare to try to send word to you again after that.” 

“What did he do when he found out?” Kassandra asked not really wanting to hear the answer.

There was a long silence before the omega spoke again. “He let the Monger teach me a lesson,” Chrysanthe said, her voice small as she shrunk into Kassandra. 

 _No!_ Not the Monger. Kassandra had been to his lair. Seen the atrocious things in the room. Chains, blood...Another burst of red-hot fury ignited in the alpha’s chest rumbling like thunder in a growl. “I killed the Monger but had I known what he did...that he lay even one finger on you...I would have made him suffer.”

How much pain had Chrysanthe suffered since she left Kephallonia? All to keep Kassandra safe. She was not worth it. The pain, the horror Chrysanthe had endured. No one was. 

“No.” Chrysanthe’s fingers feathered across the scars on the alpha’s bicep. Pale ridges that had faded through the years. “Then you would have become just like him, and whatever you believe you are, you are _nothing_ like the cultists.”

She bit down on the fury that spat and hissed inside her. “I don’t understand what I am...but you said it did something to our child.”

“It made her stronger, like you. Whatever it is you and your brother are, it made Sapphira the same. The Ecballium wasn’t working and so Thaddeus found someone to extract the juice from a Pennyroyal. Even in small doses, it is lethal. I drank it. Before Lysandra realised why the child wasn’t dying.”

“Did they know about...us?” Thaddeus and Lysandra. That they had been cultist had been a shock. They seemed so nice, so loving around each other. Around Phoibe. And not once had they made the alpha think they suspected anything about her. Who she really was. But perhaps that was the foolish naivety of a child. It would not be too hard to connect the dots.

Chrysanthe nodded. “Lysandra knew they had failed with me and Kreios’s wrath would be merciless. What better way to earn their glory by delivering them another Deimos? Another warrior from the bloodline.”

“The scar…” The alpha’s grip of the omega tightened.  

“You saw it?”

Kassandra shook her head. She hadn’t seen it, not on the ship. “Autolycus told me...he had to finish cleaning you up.”

“I remember nothing. I remember drinking the potion, then I woke up two lunar phases later.” Chrysanthe trembled in her arms. 

“How?” Kassandra shook her head. How did the omega survive? Against all odds. Kassandra had heard many a story about young girls in Sami and Kausos who had taken Pennyroyal, frightened their fathers would find out about their pregnancies. Instead, the fathers had found them dead in the morning. Everyone knew how poisonous Pennyroyal was. And yet, Chrysanthe had survived. How? 

“It should have killed you both…” uttering the words made her shiver, and she moved to sit on the bed, back against the wall. The omega followed as if connected to her by an invisible thread. She crawled into Kassandra’s arms, pulled her knees towards her chest and leaned into the alpha once more. 

“But it didn’t.” Chrysanthe pulled at Kassandra’s arm and snaked it around her waist. “Even though some days I wished it had…”

Dropping her chin towards her chest Kassandra buried her nose in the omega’s dark tresses and inhaled. The earthy scent of myrrh, cinnamon and cassia mixed and mingled with the sweet scent of the omega. Of Chrysanthe. Who had suffered alone. Who had wished she did not survive. 

Kassandra wrapped her arms tighter around her, nuzzling Chrysanthe where shoulder met neck. “I wish I could take all your pain away. That I could go back and find you.” 

Chrysanthe’s hand ghosted up across Kassandra’s collarbone. “I dreamed so many nights of you. That you would come and find me. Silly, of course.”

Kassandra shook her head. “No. I dreamed of you too. Of you lying in bed in front of me again. Some nights...I could almost swear you were there but every time I reached out to touch you, you were gone.”

“I was so angry when you never turned up. I hated you because you let me get dragged to Tartaros that day. Not once did I stop to think...” Her fingers dug into Kassandra’s shoulder as she rubbed her nose against the skin below the collarbone. “That I may have dragged you to Tartaros with me that day.”

“We had no choice in what happened that day, Kardia mou. But… why didn’t you find me all those years later? When you were with Perikles.” Kassandra murmured.

“By the time I came to live with Perikles, I was no longer the same. The things I have done… I was afraid you would find me again. That you would walk into my life and see all that I’ve become.”

“And what is that?”

“A hetaera, a mind, a body to be bought. I’m not Chryssa anymore. I’m more Aspasia than anything else…”

“That’s not true, you’ve changed but you’re still—”

The omega pushed away from her, hooded eyes looking back up at Kassandra. Dark, and serious. “I’m The Ghost.”

Her world pulled to a stop, sounds, smells and her vision warping around her. The Ghost. The _leader_ of the cult. The one Kassandra had set out to kill. The one who had torn her family apart, who had tormented her family ever since that night in Sparta. Chrysanthe was the one chasing her family. The one who sent Elpenor…

She blinked, her arms dropping to the side. That’s how Chrysanthe knew about Thaletas. About Phoibe’s parents’ plans. She swallowed, nausea washing over her. How could the omega, The Ghost, sit there in her arms when she was the one who had the alpha go murder her own pater? 

“No…” She shook her head vehemently. “Please…” she begged looking at the omega. 

“I know everything the cult has done to you. But I was never in charge of any of that. I’ve been their leader for less than two festival calendars. Ever since Korinthia, all I wanted was to change the cult or take it down.” Chrysanthe wrung her hands together. 

“Did you send Elpenor?” Kassandra asked through clenched jaws.

The omega nodded. “But I never meant for you to kill Nikolaos. I knew you had questions for him but Elpenor decided to improvise.”

“And Alexios? Once you were the leader, why didn’t you get him out?”

“I’ve tried to reach him so many times, as The Ghost, as Aspasia but he listens to no one but Kleon.”

 _Did you just assume and lose your silly little head?_ Agape’s words rang in Kassandra’s head. Last time she had found out something damning about the omega Kassandra had stormed off. Hadn’t bothered to hear her out. 

Chrysanthe couldn’t have been the leader when they had first met. The grief, the pain of losing their child was real. And Chrysanthe had protected Phoibe. Had given her life to save the young girl. She took a deep breath curbing the alpha that paced and snarled, leashing it.

“Explain to me?” She put her hand on Chrysanthe’s.

“I did it to protect you. And Phoibe. And you’re both alive.” The omega raised her gaze. “I cannot feel remorse over that…”

The Ghost, the faceless leader of the cult, a young woman turned into what she needed to become to keep the people she loved safe. And now she sat in front of Kassandra, telling her the truth. Not because the alpha had figured it out. But because…?

“Why are you telling me this when you know what I do to cultists?”

“Because I’ve already lost you more times than my heart can bear…” Her shoulders slumped forward and she dropped her gaze. “If I’m to lose you again, at least this time you will know why I did what I have done.”

To protect her? Protect Kassandra. A worthless orphan and outcast. Who else had protected Kassandra, kept her alive? No one. She’d always had to fend for herself. Markos helped her with his grand ideas and jobs but he would never give his life to save her. If it was between his and her life, Markos would gladly shove her towards death to stay alive. 

But Chrysanthe...had given her freedom, her life. All just for Kassandra? For Phoibe? When Phoibe’s own parents hadn’t even kept the little girl safe.

“And now? What are you going to do with your cult?”

“The cult is not mine. It never was, but now it is completely out of my control. I have tried to change it but it is too far gone. Kleon is conspiring against me. Against The Ghost. He is in control of Alexios who holds power over the cultist. And now Kleon has got Athens in his grasp.”

“I will kill that fucking snake.” Kleon. The maggot who had dared to lay his hand on her omega. She snarled at the sound of his name, hackles rising. “Why didn’t you tell me? When I saw you again? I could have helped you. If I’d known…”

“Because after everything I’ve done, I am nothing. I hold no power over the cult anymore. I can’t do anything to keep you safe.”

The alpha gave a hard shake of her head. “ _You_ kept me safe. Kept Phoibe safe. We are alive because of _you._  And you are _more_ than nothing.” She slid her curled finger underneath Chrysanthe’s chin lifting it until their eyes locked.

“You are Chrysanthe of Miletus.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked this story so far, please consider dropping me a kudo, and bookmark this story (helps w exposure).
> 
> And I would really appreciate comments. They make my day and it only takes a second to leave one.  
> Don't know what to comment? Here are a few ideas:  
> 1\. What did you like?  
> 2\. Did anything make you feel anything?  
> 3\. How did you find this fic? Any thoughts/questions about this chapter?  
> 4\. Chapter title...did you get it? ;)


	16. Into The Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, I know I said timeline BUT I figured you'd rather have a chapter tonight than waiting another few days for me to finish the timeline. ;)
> 
> Also, I have an announcement to make. Firesprite asked me when you lot were going to be able to kill Kleon, to which I replied I should probably  
> make another Chryssandra DLC where you get to kill him. [CUE 💡 ABOVE MY HEAD] Chryssandra DLC 2 is now in the works!  
> Follow Kassandra and discover what happened to her and Chryssa once the cult has been erased (sort of). Thinking life is going to be easier  
> the two find that is not the case when someone attempts to assassinate Chryssa. The clues leading Kass to an enemy she's been long waiting to wring the life out of.  
> Kleon. My dear readers, for your loyalty, love, kudos, and comments I will let you KILL KLEON yourselves. DLC will be released alongside the chapter!  
> So keep your eyes peeled on my twitter and tumblr!
> 
> Special mention: JackieSelah - you can all thank her for this chapter. I hit a really bad block but she snapped me out of it and here we are!
> 
> Slight trigger warning for PTSD in this chapter.

**alabastron =** small type of pottery or glass vessel for perfume. Very popular to collect especially amongst women in AG.

 **Flood =** A year 

 **Hippocrates crash course:** Basically AG had NO IDEA WHAT THE FEMALE BODY WAS LIKE. They thought women were like sponges that sucked up nutrition. And because they didn't work as much as men they needed to get rid of excess nutrition by having their period. But not just period, they were expected to bleed and excessive amount of blood. A pint. I repeat, A PINT. Or else Hippocrates believed the blood would rot inside and make them ill. 

Also, if women were having a hard time to breathe this was due to the WANDERING UTERUS. It was believed to wander upwards and choking women who were having a hard time breathing, felt fatigueor found it hard to speak. This was due to it being too dry, or lack of food among other things. The cure? Why INTERCOURSE ofc! What else? Pretty much any female illnesses could be cured by intercourse and better yet....a pregnancy! This knowledge will be useful later in this chapter. 😅

* * *

 

_She stands by the window, counting the flickering lights in the city below them. Few Athenians are still awake and most of those who are, no doubt slaves still at work. Which is why her window is also still lit. They were all slaves to their masters. Different slaves but indebted to and owned by another, nonetheless._

_She purses her lips and plucks the earring from her ears. Dropping them on the windowsill she runs her fingers through her dark curls. They don’t bother her anymore. Nothing does. Something—someone—probes at her mind but she pushes her aside. Drowns her out. Aspasia doesn’t have time for Chrysanthe._

_She picks the small alabastron from the dresser and pours oil into her palm. A scent of roses and lemon reaches her nose and she rubs the oil across her breasts. Kleon would arrive soon. And with him Perikles no doubt._

_She frowns. The cult has set her in Perikles’s path exactly as planned. But the man—the beta—has yet to approach her by himself. Of course, such was the nature of being around an hetaera paid for by another man. Instead, he would linger nearby. Listening and watching. Always._

_When she conversed with Kleon. When Kleon’s hand would touch her waist, nudging her away to a closed-off corner in the andron. But even then the other general’s eyes would linger and soon he would follow. Watching them, watching as Kleon did what he wished with her. And every time he would disappear just as Kleon finished._

_But he had grown more daring, more persistent lately. Staying even when Aspasia had raised her gaze watching him the entire time. And she can tell by the way his eyes glitter dangerously: he’s a man who wants not to love her but wants to own her.  She smiles then. More out of spite than anything. Coward. She mouths quietly through her false moans. Lets her omega snarl at him. And for a heartbeat, she thinks he might back away. So she pulls her omega back. She needs him. She needs Perikles to become a sage. A wolf amongst the sheep._

_Once she is part of the inner circle, she will turn the other Sages against The Ghost. Just like she has Kleon. Whispering sweet promises into his ears. Promises of wealth, and power. Of immortality. Her words spun like fine silk, sowing seeds of doubt and corruption in his mind. In his simple mind just like she would the rest of them._

_Athenian aristocrats and Sages were all the same. Wealth and status the single comfort they sought. But she—Aspasia—wants more. Wants something greater. Aspasia wants revenge. And like a seed, she will plant the foundation of her revenge at the very heart of the cult. Until it grows to something unstoppable. Until it’s devoured the cult and all its wretched followers. One by one she will tear them down. Like a madwoman trying to tear the stars from the sky. But they are not stars. And_ she _is not mad._

She _is enraged._

 **Ω**

“No.” Chrysanthe shook her head. Though she had clung to her shield, to Aspasia. They were still one and the same. Her despair, her pain turned into a rage. And that rage was also Aspasia’s. “You cannot forgive me. What I have done—” 

“I killed my pater.” The alpha’s clipped tone silenced Chrysanthe. 

She’d known that Kassandra had killed her father. Aspasia’s spies had delivered the news barely a moon after Kassandra had killed Nikolaos. She had raged then with a cold, tempered sort of fury, pacing back and forth in her bedchamber. Elpenor had disobeyed her instructions. And now all her carefully laid out plans had been cast into utter disarray.   

Elpenor was to point Kassandra in The Wolf’s direction, not goad her to kill him. Aspasia still needed him alive. _Kassandra_ still needed him alive. The omega had seen it when she’d touched the artefact. The pyramid worshipped by the cult for centuries. But Elpenor, the Sage who had never trusted her, had gone behind her back. Crossed her. No doubt at Kleon’s behest. But even with Elpenor goading Kassandra to kill Nikolaos, the final decision had been the alpha’s. She could have spared The Wolf. But she had killed him. Why? 

“Why?” She looked up at Kassandra whose gaze was glued to the bed. 

“I wasn’t planning to. At first… I just wanted to see him. I was curious. Like a silly, lost pup.” Kassandra’s face screwed up and Chrysanthe touched her fingertips against the alpha’s hand attentively. 

“You were not a silly pup. You wanted answers.”

Kassandra fixed her eyes on her. “I was so confused about seeing him again. As if I was a kid once more.”

“And did he recognise you?”

Kassandra nodded then smiled sheepishly. “Perhaps my ‘hello, Pater,’ clued him in.”

She smiled and pressed the flat of her hand against the alpha’s cheek. “Or maybe he recognised the beautiful woman before him.”

“Beautiful?” Kassandra scoffed. “I have more scars than a training dummy.”

The omega leaned forward then and pressed her lips against Kassandra’s. “Kassandra of Sparta, you underestimate yourself.”

“Of Nowhere,” the alpha murmured against her lips. “Either way, parts of me wished he didn’t recognise me. That I had changed so much he could not see the same little girl he threw off that mountain. And yet… I needed him to recognise me. To remember me. Remember what he did.” 

Chrysanthe tilted her head. “Do you think he ever really forgot?”

“’I did what was required of me as a Spartan. I’ve made my peace with that. You should as well.’” Kassandra mimicked in a gruff voice. “That was all he said. No remorse. No regrets. Only that arrogant, righteous face.” She paused and chewed on the inside of her lip.

“That doesn’t mean he forgot.” It was a weak comfort but perhaps it would ease the alpha’s mind a little?

Kassandra shook her head though perhaps more to herself than to anyone else. “For twelve years I imagined what I would say if I ever met my pater again. And for some _stupid_ reason, I wanted him to see me and regret it. Wonder at what a different person I was. How much better I was. More than he could ever have imagined…”

“Agápi mou,” Chrysanthe sighed.  

“I was going to let him go. Push him out of my mind and into obscurity where he belongs. But then he said it… and I…” Kassandra swallowed. “I lost it. He was my _pater_ , he was supposed to keep me safe, but he _threw me_. He let me fall to my death. And I don’t know,” the alpha’s voice quivered, “some days, I really think I died on that mountain. With you… I thought it was the afterlife. And then that got taken from me as well. When he said he loved both me and my brother. I snapped.”

Chrysanthe shuddered at the coldness that had seeped into Kassandra’s voice, amber eyes hardening. 

“I killed him out of rage. Because I hated him for still making me love him, seek his approval on that fucking cliff. I killed for revenge. For me. For Alexios.”

“Kassandra…”

“I killed him purely out of anger. I did not do it to keep anyone safe. There was no greater good in my mind. Just anger.” Kassandra reached out to intertwine her fingers with Chrysanthe’s. “We have both done terrible things, it seems. But yours was to keep me and Phoibe safe… If I cannot forgive you… will I ever be able to forgive myself?”

She pulled at the alpha’s hands pulling her in close, wrapping her arms around the stoic woman. 

“Don’t think you’re the only one to wage war because of revenge, Fengári mou. It would be a lie to say I did not want to avenge our daughter…” she mumbled into Kassandra’s unruly, thick hair as the alpha pulled her arms tighter around her. “But once I realised you were not only part of the Bloodline, you were also the missing child the cult was seeking, I had to keep you safe. If not, my goal would not have been as pure, believe you me.”

“Revenge is all that has kept me going. When I’ve wanted to just give up. The thought of wiping the cult and its followers from this earth has fuelled my anger and hate. I imagined finding their leader and shoving my spear through his face… even in my darkest hours, the thought has given me strength.”

Chrysanthe shuddered at the words spoken with such loathing. “And now?”

Kassandra looked up at her. “Now I find everything I thought I knew has been turned on its head. And the woman I love is the one who runs the cult. Unironically she is the one I’ve been looking for all this time.”

The omega dug her teeth into her lip. Despite the heaviness of the conversation, hearing those words said to her again made her chest flutter. The alpha quirked an eyebrow. “Sorry, go on.”

“I don’t want to kill you…” Kassandra cupped Chrysanthe’s face. “I want to _kiss_ you until I run out of breath. Until we’re old and grey with sagging skin and bellies.”

Unable to stop the laughter that spilt from her lips Chrysanthe grabbed the alpha by the shoulders. “I’m not going to sag!”

Amber eyes sparkled as Kassandra chuckled. “You’re going to sag. Everyone sags.”

She would have objected, but the protest died on her lips when Kassandra leant forward kissing her. Always so tenderly, stealing Chrysanthe’s breath each time and when the alpha broke the kiss Chrysanthe kept her eyes closed, savouring the moment. When she opened her eyes again Kassandra looked at her, solemn and serious once more.

“I need to know, Chryssa… do you know where my mater is? Did you know Nikolaos wasn’t my real pater?”

“Nikolaos wasn’t your real pater?” 

Kassandra shook her head and Chrysanthe pursed her lips in thought, her mind trying to piece together all the information she had about Kassandra and her family. Not one person her spies had spoken to had mentioned anything of the like.  “Clearly I don’t know as much as I thought I did.” Her brows creased.

“But you are The Ghost, you must know something.” 

She sighed. “Ask me about the cultists and I will point you in all of their directions. As I already have. But of your mater’s whereabouts, I am as at a loss as you are.”

“That was you?” Kassandra cocked her head. “All the clues? Why, when you knew it would eventually lead me to…”

“Me,” she finished the alpha’s sentence. “To help you,” she said though it came out as more of a question.

Kassandra shook her head and narrowed eyes. “I think there’s more to it.” 

There was. She had told herself it was for Kassandra, to help her on her quest, even if she must do so from the shadows. From afar. As always. But she had known Kassandra would find her. Chrysanthe was no fool and though she did not understand it she was willing to risk it. It had gnawed on her once she set her plans into motion. She was acting recklessly, and Aspasia didn’t act recklessly. So why couldn’t she stop herself? 

She hadn’t known then, couldn’t have known what she knew now. _It seems for some alpha-omega couples the bond is so strong it transcends even the laws of nature._

She pressed her fingers against Kassandra’s chest. Below her collarbones above the pink, thick scar that carved its way from her breast, and round the shoulder. She brushed her fingertips at the spot.

“Does this place ever feel strange to you?”

“It used to…”

“Like an itch? Or a pull towards something?”

 “Yes.” Kassandra blinked, forehead puckering. “How did you know?” 

“Because I had it too. Until I died.” Chrysanthe studied Kassandra’s face trying to read her reaction. But her expression was as readable as fine Naxian marble. “It was pulling us to…”

“Each other. But I never marked you. I _swear_ I didn’t even nip—” Kassandra stopped herself at the sight of Chrysanthe arching an eyebrow. ”All right, maybe I nipped.”

Chrysanthe crossed her arms.

“Fine, I bit. But you liked it. _You_ encouraged it!” Kassandra defended herself.  “And I never broke your skin, it shouldn’t have marked you.”

“And it didn’t. But you got me pregnant…” She held the alpha’s eyes.

“Oh. Oh! That marked you? That’s not how it works.”

“Not for normal couples but for some—I’ve been told—their love, their bond is so strong it transcends the very law of nature. Do you… remember that night?”

A flush climbed Kassandra’s cheeks. A stark yet endearing contrast to the scarred and muscled appearance of the woman sitting before her. She cleared her throat awkwardly. “Don’t you?” Her eyes flickered, uncertainty clouding them.

“It is a night I will never forget… we created _life_ that night…” She smiled. ”But do you remember what I promised you that night, what you promised me?”

The alpha’s gaze ducked away. “That I would love you forever, and no matter where you went, I’d find you.”

“And what of me?”

“That you would always be mine.” Kassandra still didn’t look at her. Chrysanthe leaned forward and pressed her lips against the skin below the alpha’s collarbone then. Where their bond had once been.

“And I was,” she murmured, lips caressing the skin. 

“That’s why you reacted to strongly to Kyra. Why I could never…” Kassandra fell silent, and it took Chrysanthe a few heartbeats to realise she had drawn back to scowl at her. Arms crossed, a snarl vibrating on her lips.  

“I’m sorry.” She breathed. She had barely even noticed her own reaction. Only the stench of the other omega still lingering on Kassandra. “You were right. I have no right to be jealous, I am an hetaera who takes people to bed for drachmae.”

“That, is _not_ what I meant, Chryssa. But it was clumsy of me to say it like that so soon after you woke up.” Kassandra scratched the back of her head. “I meant being next to you and Perikles… his _stench_ was all over you. And I wanted to rip his head from his body but you seemed… happy. And it killed me to stand next to you and mean nothing.”

Shaking her head Chrysanthe exhaled heavily. “I was _never_ happy with him. He was simply the means to an end. I needed him but I never loved him. Not like you with Kyra.”

“I don’t love Kyra, but I care for her. She helped me when I was hurting.”

“I’m sure she did,” Chrysanthe grumbled before she could stop herself. Sighing, she squeezed her eyes shut. “Her scent on you is still so strong.” 

“It shouldn’t be. I haven’t been near her for a long time now… you shouldn’t be able to scent her.” Her eyes went dark with worry. “Maybe we should ask Autolycus about this?”

“And what will he know about this? And either way, if you care for Kyra you have bigger things to worry about.” 

“Thaletas.” Kassandra let out a breath. “Well, Kyra is Archon I’m sure she has the soldiers to help her escort him off the island.”

Chrysanthe frowned. Had Kassandra not heard the news? “Kassandra, she isn’t the Archon.”

“What do you mean?”

“Thaletas is.”

**Ω**

_It’s not until a flood after their first meeting that the general approaches her. Kleon is flexing his power and status in front of the symposia goers and she has hidden in an alcove. The alcove is tucked away behind a thick veil of a rose bush growing up and around the lip of the roof. She scents him before he speaks. Before he is close enough for her to hear him._

_She turns and watches him from half-lidded eyes. “The lamb has come to speak his mind?”_

_He chuckles, eyes glinting. “Lamb? Surely the Odeon hasn’t missed your keen eyes.”_

_She curls her lips and rests her elbow on her hand. “My eyes see_ everything. _And yours? I trust they like what they’ve seen thus far?” They both know what she means. All the nights he’s watched her with Kleon, his grey eyes flashing with jealousy._

_He steps closer to her, tall, with a long face framed by dark curls, and wrinkles around his eyes. A tell-tale that he is too many years older than her, but it does not matter. He doesn’t matter, only where he can get her. One step closer to The Ghost._

_“And what if I was to say yes?” He inquires. He’s close, so close if she leans forward, she’ll brush up against him. But she doesn’t. If she doesn’t play her cards right, he will scorn her instead of worship her._

_“Tell me, Perikles,” her voice lilts, softening around the syllables of his name, “do you wish it was you?”_

_His eyes flicker, his tongue darting out to lick his dry lips. “Wish it was me?”_

_“Yes, you who…” she pauses and bites her lip and he nods. A quick almost shameful nod before leaning in towards her tilting his face downwards closer to hers. She smiles, welcomes his advances but when his hands find her hips, his mouth closing in on hers, she draws back putting a hand between their lips._

_“Now, now, Perikles…” she berates him in a silky voice. “What kind of hetaera do you think I am?”_

_His eyes light up and he smiles against the fingertips on his lips. “One unlike any other.”_

_“True,” she agrees, “but I am not yours.” She untangles herself from him and turns around making sure she brushes against him as she does._

_His fingers that have been massaging her hips release her and a low whisper reaches her ear, his breath warm on her neck. “Who knows… perhaps one day, you will be_ mine. _”_

_“Perhaps.” She leaves him standing as she walks up towards Kleon whose eyes burn with unbridled jealousy as much as Perikles’s burns at her back with desire. Two wolves. One prey._

_The game had finally begun._

**Ω**

Of all the things Chrysanthe had gotten better at throughout the years: rhetoric, philosophy, manipulating, and scheming...being stealthy wasn’t one of them.

“I leave you alone for less than a few candledrops and _this_ is what I come back to?” The alpha folded her arms across her chest. After having found out who the new Archon was, Kassandra had left to speak with Autolycus, asking him to keep an eye on the omega and Phoibe while she is gone. But Chrysanthe would have none of it. She hadn’t come back from the underworld to sit like some wallflower in her bed, doing nothing. Granted, she was not a warrior, but she knew better than anyone the games played by the cult. Played by the elites and the rich. And she may be newly risen from the dead, but she was _not_ going to the meeting without freshening up first.

“I assure you, I can walk around without everyone trying to hold my hand.” Chrysanthe tried to keep the indignation from her voice. “Besides, I need to get ready for the meeting with Kyra.”

Kassandra gave a snort. “I’m sorry, I thought you just said _you_ were coming with me to talk to Kyra.” 

“I _did._ You don’t know who Thaletas really is. I do. If you want to keep Kyra safe, you’re going to need all the help you can get. And _she_ will have to accept that the help she needs comes from me.”

Kassandra’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, is that so? Then, by all means, continue what you were doing.” She arched her arm in a sweeping gesture to the side.

“I shall.” The omega lifted her chin then proceeded to walk across the room. Although admittedly, walking might have been a generous description. 

Kassandra sat down in one of the chairs placed in the corner of the room. She leaned into it, her eyes dancing with amusement as she rested her hands on her stomach. Chrysanthe, having years of experience from the symposia, promptly ignored the alpha. Instead, she focused all her attention on making her way to the dresser. Her legs burned and shook with the effort, the newly healed cuts on her feet pulling unpleasantly. If she put any more weight on them or moved too fast, she would reopen the wounds.

A loud yawn drawled from the corner of the room. She turned with a glare where she was reaching out for the dresser to steady herself. Kassandra stretched in her chair, face screwed up, mouth wide open in an overly dramatic yawn. 

“What?” the alpha said when she opened her eyes again looking genuinely confused. 

“You are mocking me.” Chrysanthe didn't bother to hide her glower. This was not the symposia, there were no pretentious philosophers to impress. 

“Me? Mock _you_ , Chrysanthe of Miletus?” Kassandra put her hand on her chest. “Would I ever dare to?”

She snorted and reached out to put her hand on the dresser. Though paying more attention to Kassandra than the dresser, her palm slipped against the edge of it. She tumbled forwards, flailing with a yelp only to be caught by the alpha. Chrysanthe blinked up at Kassandra who smiled down at her.

“I told you…” Kassandra’s voice dipped low as she helped Chrysanthe to her feet again. “Be careful.” 

Kassandra’s arms tensed underneath the omega’s fingers where they stood, Chrysanthe suddenly acutely aware of the alpha’s close presence. Of Kassandra’s distinct scent: musky and with a pinch of almond. 

“You distracted me…” She slid her hands up the muscular arms, across the large scars carved into the soft skin by sharp bear claws. There were new ones, ones Chrysanthe didn’t know where they came from. Once she reached the shoulders with her palms, she found a long scar that curled from the alpha’s collarbone up and across the shoulder. She brushed her thumb across it and Kassandra turned her head to look at her. Her breath was warm, tickling the side of Chrysanthe’s face.

“And now you’re trying to distract me,” Kassandra murmured, her hands resting on Chrysanthe’s waist though she could feel the alpha’s fingers twitch. As if Kassandra was trying to keep herself from squeezing the omega too hard. 

Chrysanthe let her hands travel the last bit, up along the warm neck and turned her head to face the alpha. “Is that such a bad thing?” She challenged, her lips brushing against Kassandra’s as she pressed herself closer.

“I’m not sure,” Kassandra confessed in a low voice trying to keep her alpha in check. Chrysanthe smiled wickedly against Kassandra’s lips. Pushing her pheromones into the air surrounding them. It drew a low, husky growl from the alpha who pulled Chrysanthe’s hips towards herself, unable to resist her sweet scent mixed with the intensity of her pheromones.

She chuckled at the feeling of Kassandra’s hardness pressing against her and she dropped her hand, hesitating only a moment before pressing her palm against the outside of Kassandra’s exomie. 

Kassandra snarled and pressed her lips against Chrysanthe’s, kissing her hungrily. The omega, held upright by the alpha, dug her fingers into the thick hair, her tongue welcoming Kassandra’s. She snaked her hand underneath the short exomie, her fingers quickly finding their way inside the perizoma, wrapping themselves around Kassandra. She gave a slow purposeful pump, fingers wrapped firmly around the alpha. 

A sharp gasp fell from Kassandra's mouth and she snapped her eyes open, her hand dropping to Chrysanthe’s wrist. “Stop.” She choked out, a touch of desperation to her voice.

Chrysanthe blinked. Stop? Never had she been stroking a man or an alpha and been asked to stop. 

“You…” Kassandra’s chest heaved, her breath coming heavy. “I… should not…” A whine rose in the alpha’s throat as she closed her eyes. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” She let go of Kassandra. Surprise and humiliation stunning her. Was it because she was an hetaera, because of all the clients Kassandra no doubt knew she’d had over the years? Kassandra was a Spartan. Spartan men and alphas did not choose lowlifes for wives or mates. They did not choose the filth and worthless. They chose the strong, respectable and pure. She felt herself shrink when Kassandra touched a palm against her cheek.  

“Because as much as I want to… you’re still healing.” Rich amber eyes, warm and gentle pulled Chrysanthe back from the spiral she was tumbling down.

“Because I’m healing?” Chrysanthe repeated doubt bleeding into her voice. Kassandra would turn her down because she worried about… her? It shouldn’t shock her. It was Kassandra. But after eight years it was an unfamiliar experience. That someone put her first. Took her welfare into account. Especially when she was offering herself so freely. 

“Kardia mou, you can barely walk across the room… I don’t think your body could…” Kassandra gave a sheepish smile.

Chrysanthe smirked. Well, someone had certainly grown confident over the years. “Could?” 

“It’s been eight years, Chryssa… I don’t want to break you.” 

She laughed then and tugged at the dark-grey exomie. “What happened to being able to control things better?” 

Grinning Kassandra frowned. “When did I say that?” 

 _In Elysium._ She dug her teeth into her lip. “So, you are turning me down? For my own good?”

“I am supposed to protect you… what kind of woman would I be if I just followed my desire and made you unwell in the process?” Kassandra cupped her face kissing her lightly. The featherlight kisses and the alpha’s protectiveness did nothing to help curb Chrysanthe’s desire where she stood. “And don’t you dare use your pheromones on me again. That’s cheating,” Kassandra muttered in-between kisses.

“I’m sorry,” she smiled against Kassandra’s lips. She had missed them. Missed her kisses and the way the alpha’s body felt against hers. Parts of Chrysanthe had thought that they would be too different after all the years that had passed. That what they had once been was best left in the past. That it could never be the same. But even though Hellas raged with war and chaos, the two of them melded together flawlessly. Like Zeus’s torn halves of the whole. Finally having found each other again. 

“No, you’re not sorry.” Kassandra gave a dry chuckle.

“No, I’m not,” she agreed, “you know what Hippocrates says is the best cure for anything involving women and their illnesses… and I’m feeling _very_ ill right now.”

“Is that so?” Kassandra pursed her lips sceptically. Though neither her hands that roamed absentmindedly across Chrysanthe’s body nor her more attentive part seemed to share her scepticism. 

Chrysanthe nodded, relishing the feeling of Kassandra’s large hands sliding down her back until they grasped at soft skin and flesh drawing a gasp from her. “Do you know what Hippocrates suggest for women who find it hard to breathe, Kassandra?” she asked allowing the seductive purr to slip across her lips.

“You’re out of breath? Already? And to think I haven’t even started yet…” The low husky growl sent a tingle through her chest. It was spoken with such confidence eliciting all sorts of unspoken promises.  

“Very…” 

“Well… we can’t have that, now can we?” 

Chrysanthe shook her head with a pout and ran her hands across the alpha’s stomach. Palms drinking in the firm, well-sculpted muscles until they reached her breasts. Kassandra’s nipples responded to Chrysanthe’s caress and it sent a surge of an intense rare feeling through the omega’s body. It made her want. Made her _need_ and desire. 

For so long intimacy had been something negotiated by drachmae that need or desire was never a part of it. Aspasia had been nothing but professional about it. The client paid and Aspasia provided him with the services he required. Whatever they may be, it was performed with the utmost professionalism. If she was to climb her way to the top, to get to where she needed to be, Aspasia needed to be the perfect hetaera. To be the perfect hetaera, Aspasia needed to feel _nothing_. 

Chrysanthe chewed her lip terrified and exhilarated all at the same time. At the intense heat in her chest. Like liquid flames that pooled into her stomach travelling further down. It was not like her to respond to someone else’s touches like this and she could feel Aspasia berate her at the back of her mind. Scornfully judging how pliant, how cheap, she was acting. 

Kassandra’s hand snaked inside the opening on the peplos she was wearing, her hand cupping her breast, thumb brushing across her nipple that stiffened sending another wave of heat through her. She let out a throaty moan, shocking herself at the lewd sound.

 _You should stop it,_ Aspasia warned her but the alpha’s lips on her throat deafened her to the other woman. _You’ll regret it. You should let me take over._ She shook her head. This one was not Aspasia’s. This one was hers. This alpha, this woman was hers. 

Teeth grazed against her pulse point and she closed her eyes. A face flashed before her. Ratty, blonde hair, a well-trimmed but rough beard that scratched her chest, pale-blue eyes leering down at her. Voices buzzing around them, the strong smell of wine and symposia incense burning her nostrils. _No!_ She pushed him away from herself, staggering backwards.

“Chryssa?” 

She blinked back at Kassandra who stood a good few steps away from her, arms held out to the side, shock written across her face. 

“Kardia mou?” Kassandra said quietly looking ashamed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have… I lost control.” 

 _Look what you did._ Aspasia berated her. Her chest heaved, terror and confusion coursing through her.

“I will leave.” The alpha gave a hard shake of her head, fist clenching and unclenching. She gave the omega one last look then moved towards the door with long, quick steps. 

“Wait,” Chrysanthe managed to whisper. She felt naked, exposed all of a sudden and she wrapped her arms around herself. “Don’t go.”

Kassandra drew to a slow stop turning around. “I don’t want to frighten you, Chryssa. I never want to scare you.”

She moved towards the alpha then. With slow, painful steps but Kassandra was faster and closed the distance between them. 

“You don’t frighten me,” she whispered and pressed her face against her warm chest. Right above where her heartbeat in that steady, comforting rhythm. “My memories do.” 

Kassandra’s fingers tangled in her hair, her lips pressing against the top of her head, as her alpha wrapped herself around Chrysanthe. _I will keep you safe_ , it promised. _Keep you from harm._

 _I know, Fengarí mou, I know_. She let her omega whisper back.     

**Ω**

_Rain pours down, showering the omega where she stands on the rooftop patio. It runs in rivulets across her cheeks perfectly masking the tears that burn her skin. Rain pulls Aspasia from her. As transparent as water she pools by Chrysanthe’s feet. Thunder roars across the dark skies echoing the fear that coils in her chest._

_She is pregnant again. But this time not with Kassandra’s child. This time against her will. And even though Sapphira wasn’t planned, she was wanted. She was loved. Chrysanthe had chosen to keep Kassandra in place. Chosen to keep her eyes locked with the alpha’s until it became too much. Until Kassandra had to squeeze her eyes together and bury her face at her neck. But Perikles knew she did not want to get pregnant. Knew that she would push him away when he tried to stay. He had respected her wishes but Perikles is her master and she is no one yet. She must abide by the cult’s rules. By Kreios’s demand._

_She is an hetaera. She belongs to everyone but herself. She belongs to Kosmos. To Perikles. And the general, the beloved statesman wanted to prove to Kleon—to everyone—at the symposia that she is his. That he_ owns _her. They all watch and when he has finished inside her, he offers her to Kleon. In spite. In a final show of power. Of dominance. Over not her, but Kleon, a man who feeds off of scraps. And she is the scraps. Living in the most influential household in Athens, worth no more than the soil beneath their sandals._

_“Kassandra,” she whispers into the night, searching for a sign, anything that can bring Kassandra back to her. To help her breathe once more, help her forget, help her stand strong in the storm that is gathering at the horizon._

_“Kassandra,” she weeps, “help me.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...how many of you want to kill Perikles now?  
> Please leave a comment. They make my day ❤


	17. Endure and Survive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really sorry this took so long. I was struggling with this one a lot.  
> And I got slapped with bronchitis. Oops. Anyway here it is. Hope you enjoy it.  
> If you do please comment. 
> 
> Also, this chapter has a Last of Us reference in it. If you find it let me know!

**Aulêtris =** Flute girls who were thought to offer sexual services at the end of the symposia.

 **metrokoites =** AG curse meaning motherfucker

 

Oh! There's a timeline. Check it out here: [An Unfinished Life Timeline](https://www.deviantart.com/elmjuniper/art/An-Unfinished-Life-Timeline-811767672) (please don't judge my other dorky Mass Effect fanart!🤣😅 )

* * *

 

 _She runs. As far as she can. As fast as she can. Drowning out the omega’s call to her, the memories that haunt her. Runs to forget. To somehow survive. The pain in her body as she collapses to the ground a sweet relief from the one that tears at her chest._ Abandoned. Again. Worthless. _Slowly the voices in her mind begin to whisper._ Abandoned. _She pulls herself up again._ Worthless.

_She’s running again. Through the dense growing forests, branches and twigs whipping her body, lashing it, shifting an untouchable ache to physical pain. To something she can handle. And when she can’t run anymore, she takes her fists to the brawls at the tavern. Welcomes the blows that break her skin, which draw blood from her nose and open wounds. The blood spilling from her, pulling with it the rage that festers within. That needs to come out. She breaks things in return for the blows her body takes. Noses mostly. Until someone kicks her out, always kicking her out. Into the dark night. Into the rain that showers her mercilessly where she lies in a pool of her own blood._

_She should go home. Go to bed. But something calls to her. Something she cannot drown out. No wine. No amount of physical pain has helped quiet the call. A desperate one. A frightened one. Instead, she drags herself home and up on to the roof. Where they used to lie tangled up, skin pressed together. The roof where she watched Chrysanthe leave. The roof where she’s tried to imagine Sparta from. Imagine her pater, Nikolaos. The way he was before he threw her off the mountain and let her fall to her death. Before her family was torn apart. Somewhere behind the blurred line of the horizon is her pater. Is Chrysanthe. Calling to her._

_She hates them. Hates them both. Sparta. Chrysanthe. And yet, she longs—yearns—for both of them. This night with an intensity that tears at her chest. Makes it difficult to breathe where she stands bruised and bloodied, rain pouring down on her. Pulling the blood and anger from her. Leaving her with nothing. With no one. Only the full moon watching over her silently. The only constant in her life, illuminating the night and the vast ocean with her white light._

_She swallows against the burning in her throat. Rubs at her chest. Right below the collarbone that aches, which pulls. But to what she doesn’t know. They’re all gone. They all left her behind. Cast her aside. Forgot about her. As if she never existed and yet somehow, she still does._

_“I’m still here,” she whispers hoping, no...wondering if anyone at all can hear her. Kassandra of Sparta. Of Nowhere. Kassandra the Goat Killer. No. Kassandra the Forgettable. “I’m_ still _here.”_

_”I know.”_

**Ω**

**Mykonos, Hekatombaion 426 BC**

There was a time when Kassandra had thought she would never see Chrysanthe again. That evening on the roof, watching the ship with Chrysanthe leave Kausos for Megaris, she was certain their paths would never cross again. Though she wanted nothing more than to chase after the omega, Kassandra was but a poor orphan. An outcast. Drachmae came as easy to her as rain on the dry hills of Messara during summer. But then she had found Chrysanthe again. In the most unlikely of places. In the king of democracy's house. Even then Kassandra had known that Chrysanthe—Aspasia—never had been and never would be hers. She knew her place. She was a misthios. A sellsword. Unimportant.

And yet, there she stood, with Chrysanthe next to her in Kyra’s well-guarded house as they waited for the latter to arrive. It was nothing short of a miracle. One of many it seemed. Ones that Kassandra still couldn’t understand. How Chrysanthe had survived death itself more than once. Almost like Kassandra had on Mount Taygetos and on the stormy sea when the forceful waves had broken her small raft in half.

The fall from the mountain should have killed her, and she remembered sinking towards the bottom of the ocean. After her small boat had split in half. She could still see the glowing pinprick of the moon grow more and more distant as the dark depths of the Aegean sucked her down. Pulled her into the abyss. She would never forget the taste of salty seawater forcing its way into her mouth and lungs. Then the world turned black. When she saw the bright light, she thought she had died and gone to Elysium. She had not. The waters had washed her up on a white sandy beach, the hot sun stinging her eyes. Back then she had cried realising she was still alive. Alive and alone. But where she stood her arm brushing against Chrysanthe’s, she quietly thanked whoever or whatever had watched over her that day.

She glanced at Chrysanthe and gave her hand a squeeze. Amusement and curiosity filtered into the other’s eyes.

“You’re beautiful.” She pressed her forehead against Chrysanthe’s stealing a chaste kiss before any of the others arrived.

“Surely you jest.” Chrysanthe laughed. “I haven’t had a bath yet...”

“I told you we could postpone the meeting. But _someone_ insisted on walking here by themselves.”

“I let you support me.”

Kassandra scoffed. Chrysanthe had barely leaned on her, stubbornly holding the fabric of her chiton up as they slowly made their way to Kyra’s estate.

“I will _not_ have you carry me like some Athenian wallflower.”

“Because you are Aspasia?”

Chrysanthe gave a firm nod and turned her face back towards the door at the sound of muffled footsteps.

“What if I carried you like a Spartan come to kidnap her bride to be?”

Thick curls bounced around the omega’s shoulders as she whipped her head around to stare at Kassandra, her mouth falling open. In shock or horror? Kassandra couldn’t quite tell. Maybe her jest had been poorly timed.

“I’m sorry.” She began to mumble when a voice dripping with disdain cut her off.

“What is _she_ doing here?” Kyra pulled to a stop next to the wooden table in the opulent meeting room.

 _Getting off to a great start_.

“Kassandra said she’d be meeting with you today to go over your plans.” With her elbow resting on her arm, Chrysanthe gestured with her hand towards Kassandra.

“And naturally you just had to come and keep watch.” Kyra glowered.

“I am not here to keep…” The omega paused. “My alpha, on a leash. She is not some rabid dog.”

“More importantly, I am still here.” Kassandra scowled drawing everyone’s attention to her, Praxos and Kasos almost looking a little sorry for her. “And Chry- Aspasia, is here to help us.”

Kyra laughed her glance growing hard. “Help? And just how are _you_ going to help?”

“Are you so confident in your task, you need no help regardless of who it comes from?”   

“We need more than your knowledge on how to please men at the symposia or weave pretty chitons. Perhaps leave the strategic planning to those of us who know what we’re doing?”

“Kyra,” Kassandra growled when Chrysanthe put her hand on her arm, gently but determinedly silencing her.  

“Kyra, may I ask you, what exactly is it you’ve done successfully thus far?”

Kyra's face contorted with disbelief. “Excuse me!? _I_ led a rebellion, _and_ I overthrew a tyrant.”

“Actually, that was Kassandra.” The bridge of Chrysanthe’s nose scrunched up, her eyes narrowing at Kyra. “And to thank her, you threw her out _while_ she was injured. And then you appointed a cultist as an Archon. So, let me ask you again, Kyra, what do you do successfully?”

Silence settled across the room Praxos and Kasos squirming ever so slightly where they stood. Chrysanthe wasn’t wrong, but by the gods, this was not the time to be bringing that up.

Kyra’s pursed her lips and folded her arms across her chest. “Isn’t that why we are here? To deal with it?”

“Because _I_ showed you what was right in front of you. A wolf amidst the cattle.” Chrysanthe let her eyes, dark and hard sweep across the faces in the room. “Allowing the wolf to roam free among you, stalking you out, waiting for the right time. Such easy prey.”

“Are you just here to gloat? Or did you _grace_ us with your presence to be useful?” Kyra leaned over the table, annoyance wrinkling her features.

“Therapon, the man you know as Thaletas, now controls Mykonos for the cult and the Spartan cultist king. A powerful king who is sending reinforcements.”

“Reinforcement will help us protect Mykonos from Athenian attacks,” Praxos spoke for the first time.

Kyra grunted and shook her head. “Not if those soldiers are all cultists. Thaletas…Therapon has already sent for them, they are only two moons away by now. Malákas metrokoites!” She slammed her fist into the table.

“If they reach Mykonos taking out Thaletas will be near impossible.” Kassandra crossed her arms. They were running out of time. She wanted Kyra safe, and Chrysanthe out of harm's way when those cultist forces arrived. “I could just sneak in and kill him. I’ve done it before.”

Kasos shook his head, brown hair falling in his face. “Thaletas knows you’re here.” Hazel eyes landed on Kassandra. “He’s got his villa under complete surveillance. You won’t get within a foot without him having you killed.”

She let out a snort. “Well, I’m certainly glad I didn’t take your advice and go talk to him then,” she said glancing at Kyra.

Chrysanthe scowled. “And you wonder why you need my help? By your clever advice, Kassandra would already be dead.”

“I didn’t know he was a traitor to Mykonos.”

“No, of course, you didn’t.” Chrysanthe tipped her head backwards. “Because why would trust the word of a simple mercenary?”

“You know nothing about me.” Kyra slashed with her hand through the air.

“None of this matters,” Praxos interrupted whatever Chrysanthe was going to say next with a gruff voice. “Right now we don’t even have a plan.”

“Because you’re all looking at it from the wrong perspective.” Kassandra could almost hear the eye roll in Chrysanthe’s voice. “When the forces arrive, the new Archon will throw a symposium. To celebrate and flaunt his power. His hold over Mykonos.”

“What good will that do? The villa will be even more guarded.” Praxos shook his head.

“Unless I sneak in with the cover of being a servant,” Kassandra said.

A throaty chuckle reached her ears, and she turned to glare at Chrysanthe whose eyes shone bright with amusement. “You’re funny. There is no one in their right mind who wouldn’t recognise you.”

“I don’t like it… but I agree with her,” Kyra grumbled. “We need someone else.”

“And who would that be? Neither of you two can get in unseen.” Kassandra motioned towards Praxos and Kasos.

“I will go.”

“What?” The alpha spun on her heels. “No.”

“Kassandra…” Kyra said with a careful glance in Chrysanthe's direction. “She is the only one Thaletas wouldn’t know is with us.”

“No!”

“I am Aspasia the prominent hetaera and consort of Perikles. It makes perfect sense for me to attend a symposium.”

Perikles. That filthy dog who had put his hands on her omega, who had put his vile scent on Chrysanthe. A soft hand came to rest on her cheek pulling her face towards Chrysanthe’s. “You are _not_ his consort. You belong to no one.”

“I belong to you,” Chrysanthe murmured, her voice and eyes as tender as her touch, and for a heartbeat, Kassandra forgot about the others. About the world around them, the growl in her throat subsiding.

“I hate to interrupt your moment. Truly.” Kyra’s lips thinned, brows furrowing. “But forgive me if I find it hard to believe that someone like you will be able to do anything to incapacitate someone like Thaletas.”

“Oh,” Chrysanthe chuckled, “I can tell you’ve never paid for the company of an hetaera. I’m sure these men, however, can think of one or two ways.”

“I… uh…” Praxos shook his head the red tint spreading across the large man’s cheek an odd sight to witness.

“But no, that is not how I plan on disabling him.”

“Then how?” Kyra demanded.

“I will offer him the political knowledge he needs to, not only rule Mykonos but any place he wishes. I will ask to speak with him alone and bring him to a room with a window through which Kassandra can use her bow to send him to Kharon.”

“Well…” Kyra’s face softened. “It’s not a bad plan.” Praxos and Kasos nodding in agreement before turning to look in Kassandra’s direction.  

She sighed and dropped her hands to the side. She didn’t like it, the thought of Chrysanthe pretending to be an hetaerae, a consort, in an andron full of drunk men. The thought of Thaletas eyeing her hungrily, taking her to a secluded room to get away from the other symposium goers. To have Chrysanthe to himself. What if something happened, what if he tried something before Chrysanthe got him to the room? Then what? Kassandra would not be able to protect her.

“I’m not sure.” There too many things that could go wrong. “What if Thaletas knows she’s with me? He saw the Adrestia dock, did he not?”

Kyra shook her head. “He did, but he doesn’t know, no one knows, Aspasia was on your ship. Much less that she’s…” she dropped her gaze to the table. “That she’s your omega.”

“I don’t think anyone expected that,” Kasos gave their intertwined fingers an amused look.

“The andron is on the second floor. Right above it is another room, big, but secluded. Kassandra will be able to spot you from there. There are a handful of windows on each side of that room.”

Kyra was right. Kassandra remembered that room. She had snuck through it when looking for Kyra’s doll. It was open enough for her to get a clean shot from a good vantage point.

“But you’ll be on your own in there…”

Chrysanthe’s lips curved around her mouth, eyes glittering dangerously. “Agapí, you may be the fiercest misthios in all of Hellas but put you in that andron and they will swallow you whole. I, on the other hand, know _exactly_ how to play this game. Your battlefield is out there. Mine is the andron.”          

**Ω**

_“Chryssa?” She snaps her head to the side._

_“No.” Callidora shakes her head with a whisper of a smile on her lips, rain whipping across her pale face as a bolt of lightning cracks the sky in half._

_“Oh.” She turns back to watch the dark, and wild ocean, the hope she felt flare to life in her chest sinking like a ship in the Aegean’s churning waters. The sound of sandals carefully making their way towards her reaches her ears._

_Callidora sits down next to her. Quietly watching the ocean with her. “Kassandra…” she says carefully after too many heartbeats of silence. “It’s been two years.”_

_She clenches her jaw. White-hot pain sears through it and she closes her eyes. Everything hurts. Her broken nose, her split lips, and swollen bloodied knuckles. Her entire chest. Sometimes the pain made it hard to breathe. As if something heavy pressed against it. She swallows thickly. The taste of blood filling her mouth._

_“You can’t keep going on like this.” Callidora pushes gently._

_Kassandra wants to protest. Wants to say she can do whatever in Tartaros she wants. No one cares anyway. But she knows Callidora is right. She always was the sensible one after all. And yet, she cannot bring herself to agree entirely, so she settles for a shrug._

_“Kass… why are you still acting like this? Lashing out.”_

_She chews the inside of her mouth, biting into the flesh to keep the corners of her mouth from twitching at the thought of why. Why she was still lashing out. Pushing everyone and everything away._

_“Talk to me.” Callidora insists. “Your silence is hurting me…”_

_She closes her eyes with a sigh. Of all the people who deserved her wrath, her anger, Callidora wasn’t one of them._

_“I miss her…” she whispers hoping Callidora can’t hear it over the rumbling in the sky above them._

_“I know you do.” Callidora laces her fingers with hers and moves closer. This time Kassandra shakes her head._

_“No, you don’t, Dora. You have people who love you, who cares for you. You exist. I am no one. Nothing.” She takes a deep breath, steadies her voice. “To her, I was the entire world.”_

_“You’re someone to me,” Callidora said quietly, eyes glued to the black horizon, “and Phoibe. Do we matter so little to you?”_

_She looks at the girl next to her then. Callidora of Kausos, headstrong and fiercely loyal. All grown up now. Returning to the outlook every so often to leave food, and even drachmae sometimes. Always leaving after Kassandra has either insulted her or shown her no interest. That her company couldn’t matter any less._

_And then there was Phoibe. The little girl who she hasn’t seen for two years. Who she’s pushed to the back of her mind. To where the memories of Chrysanthe and Sparta linger and fester. Keeping her frozen in time. Keeping her hurting and aching. But it is all she knows, the only feeling that feels familiar right now. She has anchored herself to it, to the pain. Who would she be without it? How would she exist without it? Could she?_

_“Well? I guess your silence is answer enough.” Callidora’s fingers tightened around Kassandra’s. “But you know what, I will not let you do this. I am sticking with you until you get it into your thick head, that you are_ not _alone.”_

_She can feel Callidora's gaze burn at her, like the flames of Hephaistos’s furnace. She finally relents and glances at the girl—the woman—sitting next to her. Why was Callidora still here? After everything. After all the times Kassandra had all but ignored her presence._

_“Why?” she asks trying to understand._

_“Because you are my friend. You stupid, bull-headed maláka.” Callidora smiles, rain pouring down her nose and lips that give an involuntary quiver. It sobers the alpha up where they sit. It would not do if Callidora got ill from staying outside in the rain with Kassandra._

_“You are wet. You should get back home and dry,” she mumbles at the sight of the wet fabric clinging to Callidora who only shakes her head. “Dora.” Her brows creased._

_“I told you,” Callidora tilts her chin upwards, “I’m not leaving.”_

_“You are going to get sick,” Kassandra tries to insist._

_“And you’re not?” Callidora asks as another lightning whips across the sky, the wind drawing goosebumps from Callidora’s skin._

_“I don’t get sick.”_

_Callidora shudders but shakes it off, jaw set in determination._

_“Dora!” She scrubs a hand over her face. Why is Callidora being stupid?_

_“Obnoxious, isn’t it?” Callidora flashes her a smile. “When someone’s refusing to listen to what’s good for them.”_

_“Wha… I… ugh.” She growls at the smug grin on the other woman’s face. “If I say I’ll be better, will you_ please _get out of the rain?”_

_The younger woman studies her through narrowed eyes. “You’re saying what you think I want to hear, so you get your way. But, I will give you the benefit of the doubt.”_

_She lets out a breath of relief. She misses Chrysanthe more than she could ever describe and perhaps she will never recover. Perhaps Nikolaos had been right in trying to kill her that night on Mount Taygetos. Maybe she was nothing more than a murderer and this was her punishment. The gods punishing her for her sins. For killing that priest and Alexios._

_She blinks raindrops from her eyelashes. Either way, she did not want illness or some other terrible fate to befall Callidora. Especially not because of her. “Thank you.”_

_Releasing her hand Callidora rises to her feet before making her way down the makeshift ladder. “I’m trusting you, Kass. Don’t let me down.”_

_“Where are you going?” Kassandra frowns getting to her feet._

_“Home.”_

_“In the rain?” She leaps off the roof, feet landing in a puddle of rainwater and mud._

_Callidora shrugs. “It’s a short walk.”_

_“It’s two candleburns!” Kassandra hisses. “You’re not walking in the rain.”_

_“Oh?”_

_She grunts and grabs Callidora by the wrist then stalks towards the house. Women. Infuriating._

_Warmth washes over them as she pushes the door open, her brazier lit for once. She looks over at Callidora who lets out a content sigh. “You did this?”_

_“Someone had to. You’re not exactly taking care of yourself.” Callidora shrugs then give another shiver._

_“We should get you out of that peplos.” Kassandra stalks over to the basket where a chiton and an extra exomie lay crumpled up. Dirty but dry. “You can have…”_

_Callidora crosses her arms. “Really, Kassandra? Your dirty old clothes? I think I’d rather be naked,” she huffs and unpins the blue peplos at the shoulders._

_Though nudity was nothing strange, women often bathed and showered together, this was different. And Callidora was… Kassandra gulps, as the blue fabric falls to the floor._

_“Kass, you look_ awful. _” Callidora takes a step closer examining her face, “get that wet thing off and let me clean you up.”_

_“Dora, I…”_

_The other woman snorts. “There is nothing there I haven’t seen before. You've been naked around me many a time. I remember.”_

_“I was a lot… smaller back then.”_

_A throaty chuckle escapes Callidora’s pink lips as her fingers pull at the fabric belt keeping Kassandra’s exomie in place. “I’m sure you were…”_

_“I didn’t mean it like that,” she mutters trying to ignore how Callidora smells faintly of wine and myrrh._

_“We are friends, are we not?” Callidora puts her hands on her hips. Curved, full hips._

_“We are.” Kassandra agrees, quickly snapping her eyes to Callidora’s. She’s had too much wine. She has longed for closeness for too long and it stirs something alive inside her._

_“Then stop acting all bashful.”_

_She allows Callidora to unpin her exomie, allows her to get close enough to wash the cuts and wounds. Callidora's skin is warm and soft as it brushes against Kassandra’s._

_“There,” Callidora lets go of her face, “look how nicely you clean up.”_

_“You’re coddling me.” Kassandra shakes her head._

_“Yes, because you need it. Come now, I think we both need some sleep.” Callidora turns and walks over to the bed. The bed Kassandra used to share with Chrysanthe. The omega who was two years gone. The only thing left distant memories. Like ghosts keeping Kassandra company. And she’s tired of ghosts. Of spirits that promise everything but keeps none of it._

_She crawls into the bed, careful not to lie too close to Callidora, glueing her eyes to the ceiling above them. Counting the knots when Callidora turns around to face her. Kassandra ignores her, keeps counting the knots. Callidora isn’t an omega. She isn’t Chrysanthe._

_Callidora watches her for another heartbeat then moves closer and wraps her arm around Kassandra’s waist. She is not Chrysanthe. But she is warm. And she is so close, her presence drowning out the omega’s calling. Or maybe Kassandra had just imagined it._

_But she isn’t imagining Callidora and when Callidora rests her head against the alpha’s chest, Kassandra slips her arm underneath the lithe body and pulls her closer. Callidora is there. And she is real._

_“See,” Callidora murmurs, “this isn’t so bad.”_

_“It’s not terrible.” Closing her eyes Kassandra doesn’t feel so lonely anymore. But it was all an illusion. Eventually, Callidora would find a husband. Would marry and have children and Kassandra would be alone once more. Always the one left outside._

_“Kassandra, if Chrysanthe saw you now, what would she think?”_

_She scoffs. “I hope not because if she saw me right now… she might claw both yours and my eyes out.”_

_“No,” Callidora laughs, “not_ this _, but how you are. Is this what she would have wanted for you?”_

 _There had been a scroll. One Kassandra had thrown into the firepit outside, angry and betrayed, the scent of Chrysanthe on the scroll taunting her. Torturing her._ Find someone who loves you better than I could. _Those were Chrysanthe's words._

_She shakes her head. No, Chrysanthe would not be impressed by the state of her right now. Kassandra could imagine the way the corners of the omega’s mouth would curl in dismay, eyes thinning._

_“Then what would she want for you? If She turned up right now.”_

_“Don’t challenge fate, Dora. I don’t think either of us would fare well.” She frowns and looks down at Callidora._

_“Don’t be silly. You know what I mean and besides we are just friends, she has nothing to worry about. I know what I am to you.”_

_“And what is that?” The logs in the brazier are still burning leaving the room dimly lit and the wine is making her feel warmer than she is. Callidora’s gaze flicker._

_“You are drunk,” Callidora laughs._

_“Perhaps.”_

_“And either way,” Callidora swallows thickly, “I don’t enjoy being second choice. But if you wake up one day and think that I’m not… then return to me with those eyes full of promises.” She presses her lips against Kassandra’s. “Until then, stop thinking with your psolí and start thinking with your head.”_

_“I like thinking with my psolí,” she mutters. Thinking with her head only got her into trouble, anyway._

_“I can tell but this merchant is_ closed _. Now go to sleep.”_

_“But I am not sleepy.”_

_“I_ know _.” Callidora rolls over. “And don’t think your it-just-happened-excuse will help here.”_

_She laughs. Perhaps for the first time in moons. Laughing again felt nice. Being with Callidora felt good._

_“I wouldn’t dare to.”_

_“Liar.” She can hear the soft smile in Callidora’s voice. “You do things others wouldn’t even dream of doing.”_

_“Such as?” She rolls over and drapes her arm across Callidora’s waist._

_The sleek shoulders shake with something between a scoff and a chuckle. “How about diving into shark-infested waters for a malákas anchor?”_

_The anchor, Zoitkos’ lost anchor. She had indeed tried to fetch it for him. She had failed. But had she not, Zoitkos would have paid her four drachmae. That would have been more than a few days work paid for._

_She blinks at the wall. Maybe if she asked around there were other jobs than hunting for goat’s bladders? Things other people wouldn’t do. For the right pay, she could do it._ Like a misthios, _Chrysanthe's voice whispered at the back of her mind. A sellsword. A misthios. Kassandra had heard stories about them. Those who took on life as a mercenary often lived a life full of adventure and battle. But they also died young. Most of them. But what did that matter when it came to her? It didn’t. No one depended on her. No one needed her, and she was already expendable, why not earn some drachmae while being so? Worst case she dies, best case, she gets to leave this cursed island and all her memories._

_“Dora?”_

_“Mm?”_

_“Thank you.” She pulls the smaller woman closer revelling in the familiar weight of another body pressed close to her. This night that feeling is soothing. Comforting.  She buries her nose at the back of Callidora’s neck closing her eyes. Perhaps this night would be a good night, would grant her restless mind some peace. And maybe, waking up in the morning wouldn’t feel so bad._

_“For what?”_

_“For being naked with me.”_

_Callidora scoffs and shoulders her playfully._

_“I mean_ here _with me.” She grins and presses her lips against the silky skin of Callidora’s shoulder blade. “I know what I have to do now.”_

_“And what is that?”_

_“If I’m to be expendable, then at least I’ll earn as many drachmae as I can being it.”_

_“You? A misthios?” Callidora’s fingers wrap around her wrist pulling her closer. “A cold, heartless mercenary who cares for only themselves?”_

_“I can do that. I don’t have anyone…” The squeeze around her wrist interrupts her. “Anyone but you.”_

_“Right, but you forget something, Kass.”_

_“Which is?”_

_“You’re a good person, Kass. And you do care. That will always be your best quality. Your heart, though you protect it fiercely, cares more than most.”_

_She huffed in response. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”_

_“Sure you don’t. All I'm saying is… the people you care about and will come to care about… will always be safe around you. Whether or not you admit it.”_

**Ω**

**Mykonos, Hekatombaion 426 BC**

“I don’t like it,” Kassandra muttered as she paced around the bedroom, brows drawn together in thought.

After going over the plan one more time, Chrysanthe and Kassandra had made the slow walk back to Autolycus's house. And now the alpha was no doubt trying to think of a handful of other plans to implement instead of the one Chrysanthe had concocted.

Chrysanthe watched her with amusement. The same woman who was rumoured to be of divine blood, pacing the room like a mere human.

“What if something happens, what if you get in trouble?” Kassandra stopped her pacing her frown growing into a scowl. “You are smiling? Why are you smiling?”

“Kassandra,” Chrysanthe bit down on her smile. The alpha so many feared looked as scary as a lamb where she paced. “Nothing will happen. I promise I won’t put myself into any dangerous situation.”

“You will already be in one by just entering his house!” Kassandra hissed when Chrysanthe closed the distance between them to wrap her arms around her waist. “I don’t want you to get hurt again.”

“I won’t,” Chrysanthe kissed her softly, “you and that malákas bird of yours will be watching me.”

“I’m _serious,_ Chryssa. This is serious.” Kassandra leaned away from her, a dark scowl pulling at her brows.

Sighing, she untangled herself from the alpha. “I know you are but tell me, you throw yourself into dangerous situations all the time, and you expect the people around you to respect and accept your choice to do so. Yet, you do not respect my decision.”

“How can I respect your decision to put yourself at risk?”

Chrysanthe felt annoyance stir to life. Kassandra was right to worry. A room full of men, drunken men, was not always a safe place for an hetaera or the aulêtris to be, but Aspasia hadn’t survived the past six years by being completely witless.

On the contrary, it was her wit that allowed her to manipulate, impress these men around her, evoking the most passionate feelings for her. Love, hate. Disdain, and jealousy. All of it. Yes, she was an hetaera, a prostitute, but she had partly chosen that life and she would not apologise nor seek pity for it. Whatever she had learned, she would use to keep protecting her family. Kassandra was a fool to think Aspasia—that Chrysanthe—couldn’t take care of herself.

“Do not treat me like I haven’t taken care of myself perfectly fine since I left Kephallonia. Because you would be very wrong.” She fixed the alpha with a hard stare before turning away from her.

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Kassandra’s fingers grazed the skin on her arm, but she shrugged off the alpha’s touch.

“Then what?” She turned around to glare at Kassandra. “And speak plainly.”

“Is it so strange that I worry about you? That I fear losing you again? It’s not your capability I doubt, it’s cultists—men—like Thaletas I don’t trust.” Kassandra replied evenly though her frown was laced with worry. “What if I can’t get to you, what if you do this and I can’t keep you safe?”

The omega shook her head. Of all the people Kassandra mistrusted, the one she didn’t trust at all, was herself. “I know this game by heart, and I am not afraid because I _know_ you’ll be watching over me. If anything happens, you will find a way to get to me, you always do. This, I know as surely as I know the sun will rise tomorrow.” Even in death, the headstrong alpha had found her in Elysium.

Kassandra’s shoulders slumped forwards with a sigh as she reached out for Chrysanthe, needing the touch of skin against her hands. The omega let the alpha pull her close and scent her. “I don’t like the way they’ll look at you or the way they speak about you.”

“I care not what any of them think. All I care about is you and Phoibe.” She pulled at Kassandra’s face, allowing the alpha’s lips to steal her breath away. Like they always did.

Breaking the kiss Kassandra let her thumbs caress Chrysanthe’s cheeks. “What he if thinks you’re offering something you’re not…”

“Thaletas isn’t a fool. He knows better than to assume Perikles’s grieving consort is offering herself to him. Not so soon after his death.”

“Well, if he touches you…” Kassandra muttered, the tension in her voice palpable.

“You’ll kill him?” Chrysanthe finished her sentence. “Good, I’m counting on it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey did you like it?  
> Please comment and/or leave a kudo if you did.  
> It makes me rotten heart all fluffy.  
> Don't know what to say? Pick any of these?
> 
> 1\. What did you like?  
> 2\. Uhm... what do we think of Dora?  
> 3\. The plan... oh god, the plan. good, bad, terrible?  
> 4\. Did you catch the Last of Us reference?


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